all i know is i don't know nothing

[reddosmod]

SEPTEMBER 2022 EVENT

A SPECIAL NOTE NOW THAT THE GAME HAS BEEN OPEN FOR A YEAR: Due to the cyclical nature of the world, during certain months, prompts from the previous year may be available to use. You can see September 2021's prompts here. Please make sure to note if you are using a prompt from last year, so that others will know where to look for the original content.

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Black birds flying in front of a church shrouded in heavy fog. ]
[Image Two: Red tinted clouds with a flash of red lightning piercing through them. ]

Prompt Two
[Image One: A stack of leather bound books. ]
[Image Two: A close up on the detailed arches of a Gothic/Neo-Gothic building. ]

Prompt Three
[Image One: A path in the woods with fallen leaves and bare trees. ]
[Image Two: Two swords covered in blood laying across one another in an X pattern. ]

[NAVIGATION]

Prompt 1 • Prompt 2 • Prompt 3 • Plotting • Newsletter

[JUMP TO COMMENTS]

Leap of Faith

WHEN: September
WHERE: Alternate Dimension
CONTENT WARNINGS: Parallel worlds, violence, possible death, religious cults

---

Throughout the month, people seem to just be... disappearing. It starts off as just a few locals here and there: maybe it's a butcher that's become a staple in the community, or a textile merchant that some Sleepers have come to rely upon in their time here. These disappearances seem to vary in how long they last. Some people are only gone a few days, others may never be seen again. The ones who return refuse to talk about where they've been or what has happened to them and will adamantly shut down any attempts to find out information. Rumors spread around the city at what could be going on and there's the occasional bit of conversation that mentions the possibility of reality bending Pthumerians being behind the ordeal.

It doesn't take long before it's Sleepers who start to disappear as well. It can happen at what appears to be any moment: sometimes during the middle of the night, a bed will simply swallow them up. Others might be walking along a path or road and suddenly drop through the ground, even when there's no hole to fall into. If a Sleeper with the ability to see invisible supernatural forces sees this in action, they will notice what looks like black, charred hands reaching up out of the earth and latching on to their victim before dragging them into black mist.

Sleepers who have been grabbed will find they've been yanked into a pocket dimension, a version of Trench that seems to be even more corrupt, even more polluted, and covered in dark fog that is difficult to see through. There's a heavy humidity in the air, the sound of constantly rolling thunder, and the occasional flashes of lightning across the sky. Bright bolts occasionally crash down through the fog and hit the earth, cracking it open and creating deep caverns filled with tar that is hot enough to melt a human being. Beasts larger and even more dangerous than those regularly seen back in Trench roam the streets, ready to tear apart and devour anything in their path.

The buildings are also crumbling to pieces and many of the staple locations of the city of Trench have been completely turned to rubble in this alternate world. Only religious buildings seem to be left standing and they have become crowded by locals who have yet to escape this new world. Sleepers will find that these religious buildings are the only ones that are completely safe from the beasts in the streets, offering themselves as Sanctuary from the out of control corrupted forces of this new world.

The locals in this place aren't here to make Sleepers feel safe and cozy while they wait to get out of this dimension. They're here to convert and it becomes obvious quickly. They claim this universe is the True World, the world that the Old Ones had wanted Sodder to create, one that they think the Nightmare could have evolved into if Sodder had been given the proper guidance. They believe that a Pthumerian by Riteoir brought about the perfect world that punishes those who have done wrong swiftly and spares those who are righteous and dedicated to a just path. This cult has elevated Riteoir to a God-like status in their eyes and they will do their best to try and convince all who gather in the buildings for safety that they are protected here because of their faith and dedicated to Riteoir's ideals.

They also become highly violent towards anyone who dares to insult Riteoir or who questions their beliefs in any way. Killing the non-believers is a perfectly justified reaction to these worshippers, convinced that any doubt in Riteoir's power to protect them will cause their safety net to collapse. They justify brutal murders of those they deem unrighteous as being necessary to keep the peace they have found for themselves in an otherwise clearly bleak world.

Playing along might be the best bet, but isn't required for people who would rather fight monsters over people. Sleepers may run in to other locals who also chose to get away from the cult madness out on the roads and these locals are more than willing to share the knowledge they've found while exploring this dimension. There's only one means of escape: finding a weak spot in the veil between worlds and performing a ritual to break it open.

Two Sleepers of differing blood types must find and gather together the claw of a large beast, a silver bowl, a piece of rubble, and a single red rose. Roses are hard to come by in this alternate world, but there is a small garden that grows in one of the churches. It requires sneaking around the cult members in order to obtain and they will attack anyone they find trying to cut the rose from the bushes. Once these object are found, the Sleepers must bring them to the area that would have been known as Sleepytown in the original Trench. Here, it is now a vast, open wasteland, with smoke rising from the crack in the ground, and a never ending fire burning beneath the ground. The faint sounds of screaming can be heard under the ground, but there isn't any way to determine if they're real or simply echoes from the past.

The claw can be ground down with the piece of rubble inside the silver bowl. The rose petals should be carefully plucked and placed on top of the claw. Finally, each Sleeper must cut themselves, and add equal amounts of blood until it begins to thicken. It doesn't take much, the magic working quickly to turn the mixture into a substance almost like slime. Each Sleeper must dip their hands in the slime and spread it onto the chest of the other, right above where the heart would be located. If the Sleeper has their heart located in a different area of their body than normal, then the slime must be spread there instead. Once this is complete, it will feel like acid burning against the skin, before it glows brightly. The lights will join together, forming a laser like beam that will then slice a hole in the air in front of them.

This hole will show the original Trench on the other side. It will only remain open for a few moments before closing up again. Sleepers must jump through the hole together in order to return to Trench. If the ritual fails, they will have to wait three days to try again, and will have to find a way to continue to survive in this alternate world. If it succeeds, the Sleepers will find themselves in the original Sleepytown, and will be able to return to Trench from there.

Bringing up the alternate universe, the ritual, or even Riteoir will put the locals on edge and they will quickly close the door of their shop or turn their backs on anyone who tries. Apparently this is a touchy subject that they'd rather ignore.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

KNOWLEDGE IS POWER

WHEN: September
WHERE: The Gaze
CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

---

The Never Mind believes in knowledge and learning above all else. He can be found beckoning many towards the Gaze, encouraging them to attend the School of Mutter or visit the Archives to expand their knowledge. His ravens will try to guide people here as well and many Sleepers will start to feel a compulsion to follow.

There's talk of a prize being given by the Never Mind himself for those who learn something new while inside the Gaze. A bracelet shaped like golden wheat that can rid a small patch of land (roughly 4 square feet) completely of pollution, allowing the area to properly grow a small amount of plants. In Trench, this is almost as priceless as the gold itself, and so many are quick to encourage anyone to go and get one for themselves.

People can't just learn anything, though. When Sleepers arrive in the Gaze to claim their prize, they will be given a specific task: get to know someone new. There's no wiggle room for interpretation in the words. The only way to obtain the bracelet is for a Sleeper to talk to another person that they have never spoken to before. Casual small talk won't earn them this prize either. Sleepers must dive into a deep conversation that forces them to truly learn about the other person. It can be about their feelings, their past, their hopes and dreams... So long as it's something that they truly learn about the other and should, ideally, no longer make them feel like a stranger.

Bracelets will appear magically on the writs of each Sleeper once their conversation ends, so long as the criteria is met. Happy gardening!

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

THE GREAT HUNT

WHEN: Mid-to-Late September
WHERE: Trenchwood
CONTENT WARNINGS: Hunting themes, possible death, large beasts, descriptions of gore.

---

An excerpt from Ancient Notable Beasts:

The story goes that as the Blood Moon rises and the farmers begin to hope for a bountiful harvest, Trenchwood begins to hear the growls of the Bugge through the trees. One of the largest beasts to ever roam the lands, it seems to only plague the woods in the autumn months, just before the leaves begin to change their color. Legend has it that the blood shed by the Bugge falls onto the green leaves from summer and poisons them, changing their colors, and slowly killing them until they fall to the ground. The Bugge hunts and feeds on any who enter the forest, but particularly enjoys to devour those who have let corruption touch their souls.

Hunters try to bring down the Bugge every year, many losing their lives in the process. The creature stands as tall as the old pine trees, covered in gray fur, and has claws said to be sharp enough to slice through diamonds. Drool pours from its mouth, matting the fur along its jaw and chest, and dying it a deep, rusty brown. Looking into the eyes of the Bugge can make a person paralyzed with fear, forcing them to relive their worst fears, and some say even freezing them into solid ice if they do not break free quickly enough. It is said that it is most important to track the beast as quickly as possible, for if you do not hunt the Bugge first, than the Bugge will find its way behind you and hunt you instead.

No one has ever managed to truly put an end to the Bugge. Even when it is slain, the shrieks of the creature are heard again mere hours later, and more who go into the woods unprepared end up never returning. Despite the danger, the farmers do no wish to be rid of the Bugge as the Hunters do. The blood spilled by both the Bugge and the Hunters who attempt to slay it does not seem to pollute the ground as it does other times of year: instead, the Blood Moon shines brighter, and the crops for the September harvest become richer than they were before. The farmers see the Bugge not just as a necessary evil for good crops, but as a blessing, a reward for all their hard work during the year.

Sleepers who go near Trenchwood will hear the Bugge from the trees. Getting too close to the woods will cause the cycle of needing to track the Bugge to begin. It does not matter if the Sleeper leaves the woods after, the Bugge will be willing to stalk them into the city, and kill them in the streets if it is not found first. Killing the Bugge is the quickest and easiest option, but the Bugge can be healed by those willing to put in the work. If a Sleeper has the ability to see souls, they will notice that the beast seems to holds a presence similar to that of a fairly large bear. However, if healed, it will run off before the Sleepers can see its true form.

Unfortunately, those who choose to heal the Bugge will find that there are consequences. Where killing the Bugge brings about a more bountiful harvest, healing the Bugge causes the crops and other plants in the farming district to suffer and wilt. The local farmers will be furious if they find out who has chosen to heal over kill and will deny any further trade with the individual in the future, seeing them as a weak link in the natural balance of this world.

Those who choose to shed blood through September, whether the Bugge's or others, will find that the legend is honest about its impact on the earth during a blood moon: while it won't rid the ground of pollution, it seems to make life around it stronger and more durable. This includes not only the harvest but all life forms, including Sleepers.

[JUMP TO TOP]

CODING

Comments

[strikefirster]

Johnny stands quietly as he hears Robby out. It hurts but he does understand completely where his son is coming from. He knows he's screwed up a lot and that video was probably just another kick to shin in a life time full of them. Johnny could own up to that but he did feel like shit that Robby had to see it.

He eventually gives a soft little shrug.

"Look. I know it's a lot. It took me awhile to find my footing around here. Shit's dangerous. Not just the monsters but some of the people around here too. So just... Just watch yourself out there." He wants to pass on better advice but he's kind of lacking it at the moment. Everything he had done had been a trial by fire for the most part.

"If someone comes at you. Don't be afraid to pull out the shit, LaRusso taught you." Yeah... There is a slight edge to his tone, but it's dulled a touch from the last few times Johnny had talked about the guy. He had kind of fucked up with the message to him too.

"But I get it. If you need time. I'll give it to you." He hates saying that. He wanted to put his all into trying to repair their relationship but... He understood not being ready for that. Robby had spent seventeen years of his life waiting because Johnny hadn't been ready. The least he could do was the give the kid some time.

"...Do you need a ride home? Or do you know the way this time around?" He feels like he knows the answer to this one. But he just wants him to know he's got his back.

[strongroots]

If someone comes at you. Don't be afraid to pull out the shit, LaRusso taught you.

His gaze flickers, if momentarily, away at the mention of Mister LaRusso. Pull out what LaRusso taught him, huh - which begs the question of how much his dad knows about the time he's missing, missed, whatever that's about.

That it's former Sensei LaRusso. That it was Sensei Silver. Sensei Kreese.

He should tell him. But Robby can't immediately where they are right now, the talk they're currently having, so he focuses on his dad and nods as he agrees to his terms. It'll come eventually. There's a lot he deserves to own up to, than just calling out his dad for his blunders.

"I know the way." Correction: he has a vague idea of the way, but it's better than the one he took to get here (and better than when he ended up in Gaze). Robby shifts on his feet, turning slightly towards the way he came. "--I'll let you get back to - this."

This is accompanied by a nod at the dojo; training, readying for a lesson, whatever his dad's plans were before he walked in through the door and interrupted.

[strikefirster]

Johnny actually was aware that Kreese had got his grubby claws on Robby. Silver too. But Johnny wasn't willing to give them the time of day much less confront Robby about it at the moment. He'd rather acknowledge LaRusso as Robby's teacher than give them the satisfaction.

He doesn't quite notice the way Robby's gaze falters. His shoulders start to sag but he stops it. This was Robby's decision and he was just going to have to accept that for now. He gives a little nod.

"I'm actually just wrapping up. I've got something I've gotta to get to. You know?" If he was going to do good by Robby and Paul. He was going to have to start now.

"I'll uh... See you later?"

[strongroots]

He wasn't expecting his dad to do anything about Paul right now, so it's surprising to hear what he assumes to refer to that. I've got something to get to. A small lift in his brows, briefly, but he nods. If that is what his dad's going to do, then that'll get him a brownie point.

And the thought -- and also the fact that his dad might be joining him on leaving the place -- makes Robby grab his omni out from his jacket pocket.

"I can, uh, give you my contact. Let me know how it goes."

Does he feel it's particularly any of his business? Not really. ... but maybe he really wants to hear that his dad's gone through with it - keep him accountable.

[terriblepurpose]

The instinct to still and listen at a doorway at an unexpected voice was trained into Paul at an early age. The decision to stay and keep listening, two steaming cups of black coffee in hand, is a practice taught not long after. He tells himself that it’s to look out for his sensei, like he always tries to, ready to step in and intervene if misspoken words ever go too far.

But they don’t. It goes - as well as Paul thinks it could have gone, based on knowledge he now has cause to understand as woefully incomplete, but it isn’t like anything happening in the training room is unfamiliar to him, in the broader strokes.

(Brood parasite, says a voice-not-a-voice. Sharkskin fingers on his face. His hands are slick and hot.)

The funny thing, in a sea of funny things, is that he’s proud of Johnny, in a half-sick, paper-mouthed way. Between the soft grit of his head in the morning after and the plummeting cold in the pit of his stomach there’s enough space for that. This is the part of Johnny that Paul believes in, the part that wants to do better, even when he falls short time after time.

Then it’s done, or nearly done, and he could walk away, vanish back into the dojo or out the side door. He could pretend he never heard any of this, put on an expression of genuine surprise when he ‘finds out’, go through the performance of bewilderment and acceptance. He would do it well.

When Paul steps into the doorway, he’s calm and poised, the ceramic coffee cups he holds as hot as they were when he poured them. He looks between the two of them with mild curious interest, seeking out the similarities of features he’d overlooked the first time.

“Good morning, Sensei Lawrence,” he says, softly, walking towards him to offer one mug of coffee, and his eyes flick sideways to Robby before they drop to the other mug, and Paul extends it to him, too, “Good morning, Robby. Do you drink coffee?”

[strikefirster]

Johnny had sort of been expecting this. He been ratioed on the network for his post already (Not that he knows what that is.) and he was getting better at owning up to when he fucked up. It wasn't a matter of if but when now, and since he had spoken with Robby now, Paul was all that was left.

"Uh. Yeah. I will." He pulled out his Omni and approached to take contact information. It was the least he could do and honestly. If Robby wanted to hear how it went, then that was progress, right? It was exactly what Johnny was craving here. "That would be great."

And then Paul is at the doorway and Johnny feels another pit form in his stomach. An ache of fear over what Paul might have overheard and decided for himself already. Had they met already? Had he overheard Robby's name or had he already known it? How mad was he about what had happened. Johnny's head starts to swim at all the awful possibilities that could come up.

But then Paul offers them coffee and Johnny's fears are slighty subdued. There's still a shake as he moves to take the cup.

He looks between the two of them and sucks in a breath. Eyes focusing on the coffee for a long moment before he looks up.

"Uh. Morning Paul." His words don't quite fumble out of his mouth but he's struggling here.

"Uh- Guess you already caught his name but this is my son, Robby. He showed up in Trench a little while ago." Okay. Half of the hard part of this is over. "And Robby, This is Paul. He's a student of mine and he's been staying here for a couple months now."

[strongroots]

"Hold on," had been muttered, turning on the device to do the exchange. At least he knows how to do it, Tory's info in his omni; and he almost doesn't pay attention to the doorway, who enters, except habit makes his eyes glance and then-- pause, before they can return to the omni as they figured they would.

If it hadn't been who it was who enters. His brows raise, a show of surprise Robby directs away from Paul, turns to his omni instead. An action perhaps inspired somewhat by guilt; to have the devil spoken about walk in thereafter, and all that. But he's wondering too, what part to play: to stay and admit who he is, or to let the two of them sort things out first, then be more honest to Paul later on.

His dad makes that decision for him, but Robby's already looking back at Paul -- from that moment he uses his name. A name that Robby knows he never gave Paul, deliberately, and when was it the last time his dad said it? He looks at him quietly, watching, his own expression muted as he considers how he should think or feel; and if Paul should look back, it's a cautious interest at most that can be read from him.

The name drop was on purpose. But what it means will be for his dad to figure out.

"We've met," Robby follows up after his dad; and he can now nod to Paul, the offered cup of coffee. "I was just leaving. I'll send you a message later."

He steps away, those last words given with a raise of his omni and directed to his father. Who he gives a nod, a signal that he'll be leaving now.

This is their time.

[terriblepurpose]

Paul is as opaque as Robby was at their first meeting, the light, easy charm of the Waker replaced by a drawn curtain of measured control. What he doesn't conceal is this: first, his glimmer of interest at Robby's own self-control in this situation, and second, his approval of it, meted out with a returned nod after a half-second of stillness.

As Robby heads towards the door, Paul waits until he's nearly at the threshold before he speaks again: "You'll have to try some the next time you come by."

And he means it, which is, as Gideon might say, the bitch of the thing.

Then he waits. It's only when he's as close to certain as he can be that Robby is at a distance he won't overhear them (and he could make sure, if he wanted to, but that seems like an unfairness - if Robby wants to listen, he surely has the right) that he turns back towards Johnny. Something works imperceptibly along his jaw, flutters underneath his Adam's apple, but it never makes it to his eyes.

"We don't have to talk about this," he says, which isn't what he wants to - which isn't even close to being the right thing to say, either, as his hands tighten around the mugs. "I apologize for putting you in this position, but we don't - we don't have to talk about it, except - " something is dry and scratching in his throat "- if there's anything I can do to fix it, or - "

He feels tongue tied, idiotic, as he offers up a little, curled in shrug. Or anything else.

[strikefirster]

Johnny just watches the two with an absolute dumbfounded look on his face. He's... Only vaguely aware of how things had turned out between Robby and Miguel. Except he hadn't actually lived through the worst of it like he had in his future, and he certainly had no way of knowing how Paul actually felt about the rest of this. Except that he had noticed Johnny's fuck up the other day. And it had hurt him.

He watched the two and raises a hand to Robby.

"Right... We'll uh- Talk later, I guess?" His throat feels a little tight with the both of them in the room. Two people he desperately didn't want to fuck up with and here was put on the spot. Don't fuck up.

He just sort of stares beyond that as Robby heads out the door. Leaving him with Paul. But he's in an absolute daze until Paul speaks up and knocks him back to his senses. He steps back and takes a moment to adjust himself. Hanging on the words as he tries to make sense of what to do.

"No. You don't have to apologize for anything." Johnny finally says as he realizes the real focus of this conversation. "And you don't have to fix anything either." He adds as he slowly steels himself to strike while the iron is hot. "But... We should talk about it. If you're willing to hear me out." And he was going to strike hard.

He takes a few steps toward the barrel he had been training under and takes a seat on it.

"You remember when you first moved into the dojo? When you were having that shitty dream. And you told me that you fucked up?" There's a pause and Johnny sucks in a deep breath before he continues on.

"Well now it's my turn. I fucked up, Paul. I fucked up by you, and I fucked up by Robby too."

[terriblepurpose]

Paul does remember. It's scrawled in the twist of his mouth and his crumpling eyes, the little, soundless hitch of his breathing. He composes himself swiftly, helpless, pointless irritation caught under his tongue like grit. He's slightly too quick and stilted when he goes to set the coffee cups on a bench before dragging over one of the crates they use for box jumps to set in front of Johnny, where he takes his own seat.

His first instinct is resistance - not to the conversation that waits between them, as tensely as he anticipates it, but to Johnny's admission of shortcoming. He knows that it's true. He was there for one of those fuck ups; he overheard the story about more of the others. But when he looks at Johnny, slumped and tired and vulnerable, and odd, slippery fear gnaws at his gut.

"I'm not angry with you," he says, even though it may be too soon to call, "It's only- I don't understand."

He wants to draw his knee up and tuck it against his chest, prop his chin overtop it. Put some kind of barrier between them, however slight and lacking in real protection, but he keeps his hands on his knees instead, posture rigid and stilled.

"I want you to explain it to me." There's fine tension etched into the words, but a rivulet of furtive, guarded hope that maybe if Johnny explains it, there will be something here that Paul can understand.

[strikefirster]

This is the thing he has always respected about Paul. When there's a problem he approaches it with a calm and collected demeanor- he gets to the point and tries to work toward a solution. It's something Johnny has never really been good at and to tell the truth it would go a lot easier if he actually put a solid effort into it.

It's the last words that give him pause. He always had trouble finding the right words to say here. How could he explain all the wrong he had done to Robby? Well, he had managed once with Miguel. Maybe he could do it again.

"I can give it a shot. And- If you end up getting mad about it. I wont blame you. I deserve it." Johnny was ready to take his licks for this. If he could make it right he'd try again after.

"That... Robby. He's my son. He arrived here before we did the post on the network. I knew before hand that he was here." Which slightly explains the slip but he can't help but wonder if he might have made it even if Robby wasn't here.

"We've never really had the best relationship as he was growing up. And that's mostly on me. I wasn't there for him when he was born and I was hardly there for him after that too." It's rare to see Johnny picking each word he makes carefully. But he desperately didn't want to make a bigger mess than he already had.

"My last memories from home. We were sort of on the up and up- Or at least I thought we might work toward it. But him, LaRusso, Tory. Everyone from there remembers more than me. And apparently everything gets pretty screwed up after that." There's one more pause.

"When... I said that to you though. The other night. I wasn't trying to talk to just you- or him. I- I really meant it for both of you."

[terriblepurpose]

Paul wonders if this is what he might look like on the other side of trying to explain the inexplicable, give voice to the unthinkable. Johnny is a screwed up huddle of unhappiness, desperate to be understood as much as he is also so afraid of it that Paul wants to be looking at anything except for his eyes.

I won't blame you. I deserve it. The heartsick confessional of the fuck up.

It still hurts. It hurts more than Paul wants it to, bubbling up around the edges of his attempt to keep an open mind, clamouring in his ears fit to drown out Johnny's words. He doesn't know where to hold the way it hurts him, but he can touch the edges of where his hurt might bump up against Robby's, and that's where he sinks his fingers in.

One of the only things Paul ever used to be afraid of was being set aside. Not for the loss of title and position, because those never mattered very much, but for the loss of his father's devotion. The spectre of a true wife, a trueborn heir, had once haunted his childhood dreams, until one nightmare had him hiccuping with tears as he crept into his father's bedroom after eluding a handful of guards and the locks between them, and once his father understood, once he had explained that nothing would ever come between the two of them - there had been no more dreams. He had been eight.

Did Robby ever have that? How must he have felt, watching first the storied Miguel and now Paul assume this place at his own father's side? How can Paul trust someone who would treat his own true blood so carelessly?

Some of this must reach his expression. It's a struggle for self-control greater than any Johnny would have ever seen from him before, Paul's mouth a thin, bloodless line as his fingers twitch on his knees and his shoulders shudder with the effort of moderate breath. He is hurt - he is bewildered - he is, perhaps worst of all, disappointed.

But he doesn't look away, and as he sits, he begins to calm, like a pool returning to peaceful clarity after a rock was thrown into it. The stifled tension in him eases. He opens his mouth to inhale, lets the exhale come as a shivering sigh.

He thinks about grace. He thinks about arms warm and steadying around his shoulders in the dark.

"I knew that," Paul says, finally, voice as pale and pressed as a petal between pages, "You didn't have to tell me."

He's still grateful that Johnny did, as something out of alignment slots back into place with a juddering ache. Impulsively, he leans forward to cover one of Johnny's hands with his own, if only for a fleeting moment.

"You fucked up." Because he did. "But you can try to make it right. I know that you want to. And I know that you can. So we'll keep - we'll keep trying. You and me. Because that's what we do, right, sensei?"

[strikefirster]

Johnny just watches silently as he realizes with growing fear and assumes the absolute worst in what his words must have done to Paul. He sees the pain, he sees the confliction and it drives his anxieties through the roof. He may be sitting quietly and patient but he wants nothing more than to bolt it out the door and drive as far away as he could from the dojo.

If he could just go somewhere where he wouldn't hurt anyone again.

Then he's snapped back to reality (oops there goes gravity) when Paul let's out that sigh. Johnny's still frozen until he feels that hand touch against his. His blue eyes look downward in confusion and then he glances up to meet Paul's. He can't help but bark out a half hearted little laugh.

"No- I did. I owed you that at the very least." For all Paul had put up with. The least he deserved was for Johnny to be straight with him.

A sense of relief does wash over him as Paul gives him the chance he so desperately craves to make it right.

"Yeah. ...But if you still want me to be your sensei, then that's what I'll be. No matter happens, I'll always be there. I wont let you down again, Paul."

[terriblepurpose]

Even now, Paul wants to say of course. He wants to say always, he wants to say never. He wants to say all the impossible words that signify the negation of chance, or change, the ones that fix the world to a shape that cannot be held however much a person wants it to be.

He thinks, as if he's remembering the moment even while he's living it, that maybe this is part of what it means to grow up. The metamorphosis and the imago, the turmoil of recreation.

"I still want you to be my sensei," Paul affirms, his fingers seeking the seams of Johnny's (not so fleeting, it turns out -) as he stays leaned in, "But you don't have to say that you'll always be there, or that you won't let me down. It isn't..." he shakes his head, uncertain of his words, speaking anyway "...that's not what I need from you."

"I need you to try not to make the same mistakes." It feels worse to say what he needs than what he wants. A want can be done without. A need drags his eyes down to their clasped hands and puts all the childish nervousness back into him, and maybe he doesn't know anything about growing up. Maybe all he knows is that he needs something to change for the better. He needs to know that anything can.

[strikefirster]

The words hit Johnny like a sack of bricks. In both the best and ...while not the worst ways then certainly something that brings him back into reality. It reminds him of the first time he begged for a second chance to train Miguel. How he felt like he wouldn't get that chance with Robby so begged and put his chips in the one person who hadn't given up on him at the time.

The fact that Paul hasn't given up on him is the best and worst thing he could ask for. But he thought he understood why Paul chose those words and what he might actually be looking for.

"...I get it. I- You don't have to believe me. I've screwed this up before so I'll understand if you don't." He says with that hint of nervousness still there. But he grips Paul's hand and focuses harder on what he wants to do.

"But I'm trying my best not to make the same mistakes again. It's hard because I've made a lot of them and sometimes it feels like I'm going in circles." Being honest and candid about it is probably the best way he can go about this right now.

"But you, my first student Miguel, and Robby. You're all your own people. None of you are a redo or a replacement for me to try and get things right with. There's a spark in all of you- And... I'm just lucky to be along for the ride. To have the chance to try and make something good with all of you."

[terriblepurpose]

There's no spark of revelation or flood of relief in the wake of Johnny's words. Nothing happens suddenly, as things so often do for Paul, those great, turbulent crashes of comprehension and intuition and emotion that buffet him too often. When he breathes out, with a little pulse of his fingers, what it feels like is something small and green and new putting down pale roots in warm, dark earth.

"I believe you." He says, and he does, still. "I believe in you. I have, all this time, and you think I'm going to just - quit on you?"

He has a hand free. He makes it into a fist and socks Johnny in the shoulder, something watery about his crooked, closed mouth smile.

"That's not what you've been teaching me, sensei." He shakes his head, hair falling into his eyes before he drags his fingers through it to slick it back. "We get knocked down, we get back up. That's the part that matters, isn't it? Not never falling - but always rising."

Like eagles, or hawks, though he won't linger on that. The point is made, he thinks, and that's the start of putting things right between them.

"That's why you have to invite Robby back for dinner," he adds, and Johnny has known Paul long enough now to recognize the gleam he gets when he shifts into strategic planning. "A welcome feast. Belated, but we can make up for that - I'll have to get out the larger pans, but it's feasible, especially if we borrow a hall - "

[strikefirster]

Johnny takes the sock to the shoulder. Mostly because he's just staring in disbelief at Paul's words. Not because he doesn't believe them though, but because he certainly feels like he doesn't deserve them. He can't help but feel the weight in his gut start to lighten up, swelling into his chest in a moment of pride.

"I- I didn't think you'd quit on me. You just... You have every right to give up on me if you wanted to. Robby too." He just barely manages to sputter this out before he lets an arm wrap around Paul and pull him into a light manly embrace.

"But you're right. When shit hits the fan, it's up to us to rise up to the challenge. Even if that challenge is family."

It's impossible for him to hide the light shake in his arm at the idea of dinner. It's a mix of fear and excitement.

"Yeah. That's a good idea. We should... Probably invite Tory too. ...And. Shit- I hate to admit it but probably LaRusso too. And all of your house. Make it- Make an event or something. I've never done shit like that before. Well not since highschool."

[terriblepurpose]

Paul falls into the manly embrace with an equally manly little exhale, like someone socked lightly under the ribs. He digs his face into Johnny's shoulder for one moment and no longer, still not able to forget the low, tense sound of Robby's voice outlining all the ways that Johnny had let him down. It feels greedy to take this comfort, a shade illicit - but Johnny's arm shakes, and Paul remembers he's not the only one surely still thinking of that exact thing.

He's been trying to teach himself that care is not a finite thing. If he means that, he has to behave as if he believes it, and that he is not the sole exception to the rule in the universe that says a person can care about more than one person at once.

"I think that's one of the greatest challenges," Paul says, pulling back whenever Johnny is done, "It takes a real badass to host a family dinner."

It's a little bit a joke. It's a little bit not. It's a bright, focused goal, something achievable, and Paul has learned a great deal since the last time he tried to do this. He'll - they'll get it right, this time. For Johnny's sake, and for Robby's. For Tory and even LaRusso. For the House.

"We should invite everyone, I agree...and don't worry, sensei. I know what to do. It'll finally be my turn to teach you something."