lifeaftr | who's the leader of the club that's made for you and me?

Entry tags:

who's the leader of the club that's made for you and me?

Who: Mickey Mouse & You!
What: Exploring, sadness, training, embarrassment, shenanigans!
When: Various Days Through September
Where: Enso, Islet 2 but certain prompts can be all over.
Warnings: None!

Exploring : All Over

Every day Mickey spends most of his time looking for anything and anyone. As a result, he can be in all sorts of odd places - climbing up threes, scaling the ruins, running across the beach, etc. He's eager to memorize the landscape, but he might be too eager and bump into you. Let's face it, there's a good chance you're taller/strong than he is, so he's the one that rolls over and back.

"W-whoa! ... Sorry about that!"

Training : All Over

Mickey may be a newbie musketeer, but even he knows the importance of exercising and training. An unused sword gets rusty, after all! He often uses an occasion to hunt down meaty monsters, but he can also be found shadowboxing... er, shadow-swording, in this case, parrying back and forth. Surprisingly, it does look like he has skill.

But he's not just keeping up with the blade. With Marcille gone, Mickey lost his magic teacher, and he know ever learned two spells. Yet Mickey has decided to make her proud by keeping up with it! He can't exactly practice cure when there's no one to heal, but he can set things on fire with his hands! ... And hopefully it won't start a forest fire.

Islet 2, Shack #1, Roof

But with Marcille gone, he didn't just lose a magic teacher. He lost a friend. In addition to missing his friends from home, now the hole in his heart is a little bigger. He sighs, hugging his knees, hoping she's all right. He wouldn't mind company, he supposes.

... Although that roof looks like it's going to cave in any second now.

Islet 2, Shack #1, Inside

If you just happen to be passing by the tiny shack, you'll hear Mickey talking to someone. Maybe you're the polite sort and you just keep on going. But if you're not, and let's face it this island is 99% rude, you're listening in and hearing him say some odd things.

"Now, uh, listen, I know you're a princess, and I'm a commoner, I mean, a pretty common commoner - heh heh, that's a good one - but I was wonderin' if maybe, I dunno, if you didn't have any of them noble... princessy duties to do, you and I could... kinda... UGH! Why is this so hard?!"

After an overly dramatic sigh, he tries again. You're going to open that door aren't you? Of course you are, because what are manners? And there you will see Mickey on one knee, addressing a plush that sits atop a makeshift bed. Mickey hasn't noticed you... yet.

"Lemme try this again... A-hem. Your Royal Highness! I am but your humble servant! And it would be my honor to escort you back to the castle personally! ... Hmmm, maybe a bit too formal..."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Why yes, Newt absolutely has help himself to the inside of the shack, and has discovered that the door pushes open pretty easily and somehow silently? Which is shocking, considering the state of, well, the island in general. But he's just gonna...lean on the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest, watching, amused.

"Yeah, dude, a little bit." Because yeah, that was a bit formal, and because of course he's going to invite himself into this conversation.

Mickey JUMPS A CLEAR FOOT INTO THE AIR with a very loud, startled yelp. He whips around OH WHY OH NO and makes a few desperate sounds.

"N-N-Newt?! I, uh, this isn't..." He looks back and forth between Newt and the plush before yanking his hat off his head and slamming it down on the toy, before trying to hide both behind his back. Because clearly if Newt can't see it then IT WAS NEVER THERE.

"...H-How long were you there?"

Oh my god. That's adorable. Newt's grin widens, not moving from where he's still chilling on the doorframe. "Long enough to tell you that you're trying way to hard, man. You don't need to work that hard, y'know? If you're gonna ask someone on a date, just ask them. You don't have to worry about all that fancy stuff."

"L-Listen, it's not, it wasn't what it looked li-" Mickey had been about to explain that he absolutely did not ask for this plush, that the Storyteller decided that all on its own, HE'S NOT A WEIRDO WHO ASKS FOR PLUSH TOYS OF HIS CRUSH - until he realizes Newt didn't ask about any of that. Oh.

"... But, she's, um, well, she's a princess, y'know?" His yelping now goes down to a mumble, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. "And I'm just... I got no family, no money, nothin' she'd want. Girl like her probably gets all kinda dukes and nobles and lords askin' for her hand all the time..."

You're getting an arched eyebrow for that, Mickey. "Yeah and if she wanted a duke or noble or lord, she'd obviously have one already. But she doesn't. Also, pretty sure if she's a princess, she's got her own family and money so she doesn't need yours." Newt huffs, pushing off the doorframe. "Besides, what makes you think you have nothing she'd want?"

Mickey's eyes jot here and there, he supposes Newt has some good points. But it turns out that as much as Mickey will praise and fawn over everyone else on the island, when it comes to himself... the confidence dimmers.

"I... I just don't know anythin' about this kinda stuff! I never even thought about girls that way until I met her! Kinda like a... switch in my head got turned on, and I didn't even know the switch was there." His shoulders lower. "I guess I just don't know if I'm good enough for her."

Right, Newt's just gonna...invite himself in, then, and plop himself down on the floor in front of that bed, back against the side of the frame, legs criss-crossed in front of him. "Yeah, that "good enough" stuff is all a bunch of malarky made up and enforced by people who want to feel like they're better than other people. So, you're good enough, dude. And if someone doesn't think that you are, they're not worth your time."

Newt huffs a bit, sitting back. "And anyway, there honestly isn't much to "this kinda stuff." It gets all built up, but at the end of the day, people are just people and want to be treated like people, y'know? You don't have to put her up on this huge pedestal--just think of her like a person. A person that you want to make happy. So just focus on that. Everything else---" Newt waves a hand, indicating--"whatever fluff and fodder comes with it--that can all be learned later on." Look at this nerd giving advice like's socially inclined at all.

Mickey doesn't sit with him - he's not sure it could handle a second body - but he does listen. As usual, Newt is a genius, and Mickey realizes that surely Newt must have had a dozen pretty girlfriends if he knows all about this! Of course, one becomes an expert at something because they do it a lot, so surely he knows so much because all his life he's been surrounded by girls who dig him!

"Well... if you say it's so, then it must be so!" His confidence begins to return little by little, fists pumped. "Y-Yeah, I wouldn't wanna be with someone who didn't like me for me! Ain't nothin' wrong with who I am! I like being me! And... And I'll treat her all normal too! I bet there's a ton of ways I can make her happy!" ...And absolutely none come to mind. She is a rich princess, after all, it's not like he can get her anything she doesn't already have.

....Mickey, you're just too kind. But Newt grins as his enthusiasm. "Yeah, dude, absolutely! What are you thinkin'?"

There's a long pause, because Mickey isn't entirely sure. "... How does a ride on a big boat sound?"

"Um...I dunno? Does she like boats? Because if she likes boats, that sounds great?" Newt's arching an eyebrow slightly, head tilting to the side.

"I don't know if she does...truth be told, I haven't really talked to her much." He nervously smiled. "See, I've only know her... maybe a couple of hours."

Newt just...stares at Mickey for a moment--before he laughs. He can't help it, really...at least it's short lived?? But he's grinning, afterwards, still good natured, reaching out to ruffle between Mickey's ears. "Awwwww, dude. That's cute." There's no malice in the way he says it--he means it. "Love at first sight, huh?"

Mickey's cheeks redden all over again. This is completely new territory and he doesn't know how to handle it. Even if he was talking to one of his lifelong friends, like Donald and Goofy, he'd still probably be acting the exact same way. His eyes hit the floor.

"I, uh, gee, I guess so." he mumbles. "... If her lady-in-waiting hadn't walked in, I probably would've wound up starin' at the princess for hours."

Another chuckle from Newt, because he can't quite help it--it's really adorable. "Well, in that case, maybe you should just start by getting to know her, first? I mean, it's hard to know if you really like someone unless you know them, or if it's just infatuation. And knowing that takes a little more time."

"W-well, once I get back home, I'll be sure to ask her a million questions so I can know her inside and out! ... If she'll let me." He's pretty sure she'll let him, but you know, little self-confidence and all that. "But how do you tell the difference between that and... infatuation?" He says the word slowly, wanting to make sure he got it right.

"Well, I mean...think about it this way. You don't really know anything about her yet. So really, all you have is your idea of who she is, not who she is actually. That's infatuation. You have your own idea of them, and you want to know more about them, but you don't know them. Love is..." There's a hesitation, and how can he help but think of--

"...love is knowing their favorite tea or snack--"

--PG Tips and baby carrots--

"--knowing their routine before bed--"

--brush teeth, wash face, straighten ridiculous pajamas, do stretches, climb into bed and read for exactly half an hour before shutting off the light--

"--knowing them so well that you could pick them out in any crowd--"

--how could he miss him, with his oversized grandpa clothes, ridiculous haircut and gait made uneven by his cane--

"--knowing all the little dumb, ridiculous mannerisms they have--"

--the way he runs his fingers over the handle of his cane, the smearing of chalk dust on his forehead from where he rubbed it when he was thinking, the way he fusses when he's worried--

"--knowing what makes them, them." Newt's voice cracks on that last word, wobbly. "And...and loving them for it, no matter how good or bad it is." It should be obvious, but Newt isn't really focused on Mickey anymore. His attention is on his hands, laced, elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward, his gaze far off--he's not here and now, but rather with someone else; with ridiculous military regulation haircuts and long fingers that use incredibly outdated chalk and irritated snapped snarls and a wit so sharp that it nearly cuts him and the soft heart that's hidden underneath all of it and smiles so rare and precious that it lights up everything in Newt's world. He doesn't realize he's crying until there's tears falling onto his hands, at which point he jolts, sitting back, startling--his chest is tight, and he sucks in a breath, quickly wiping at his eyes, and he laughs a little, watery and wet.

"Wow, um, hold on, give me--I--I n-need a minute. Just a---just a sec--" Newt presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, ducking his head, breathing in slowly, shakily, trying to get a hold on himself, despite the ache that throbs in the center of his chest painfully.

Guilt strikes Mickey like a punch to the gut. Of course Newt has had experience with love, and obviously there's one he really misses! Why hadn't Mickey realized this before it was too late? He drops the hat and the plush it was "hiding", flailing a bit before trying to reach out.

"N-Newt! Aw, gee, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..." What do you say in this kind of situation? What do you do? All of this is new and scary and sad. He hesitates, and then puts a hand on Newt's arm. "...Listen, you just... you take all the time you need, okay?"

Mickey's hand rests on his arm and Newt can't shut his eyes any tighter. That simple touch, the offering of sympathy, makes Newt simultaneously want to fold into himself and sob and release all the pent up grief he's been holding back for the past month, and draw back and away and pull those walls tighter around himself, which quite frankly is the exact opposite of how he normally deals with these sorts of things. It's more Hermann's style. And that's precisely the problem. Maybe that's why he's so terrible at this; at controlling his emotions. But he can't--he just can't deal with this. He can't feel this grief and let it out because it feels like he'll be admitting something terrible, then. Coming to terms with something he doesn't want to be true, or that he refuses to even acknowledge to be possibly true. And Newt's teeth sink into his tongue, biting down, not enough to bleed but enough to cause a jolt of pain, and focusing on that rather than the tightness in his throat and the weight in his chest is much easier.

The heels of his hands press hard into his eye-sockets and he takes on steadying breath through his nose, two, three, until he no longer feels like outright sobbing. Four, five, and he can breathe a little easier, though the weight still sits on his chest, and he releases the pressure of his hands, rubbing away wetness instead of pressing closed. Six, seven, and he drops his hands, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards just slightly. His eyes are red at the edges and a bit puffy and that smile is weak at best, but he laughs a little, watery still. "Um, yeah, anyway, uh....I think my point with that was that love is different than infatuation." His voice is still a little shaky, but holding steadier as he continues to talk. "Not that, ah, infatuation's a bad thing. You just have to know what level you're on and keep that in mind."

Why are they already back on Mickey's problem when it's oh so very obvious that Newt has the biggest problem of them all?! "I, uh, y-yeah, sure..." He doesn't even care if Newt can see the toy anymore, what matters is that Newt is having issues, and not for the first time. It's far too similar to the reaction on the beach, except Newt had nowhere to run this time, so instead of allowing himself to grieve openly, he'd forced himself to shut down. Mickey is hardly the master of all things emotional, but even he knows that can't be healthy.

But what can he do? Mickey's never faced anything like this before, and he's afraid one wrong step will make things worse. He rubs Newt's arm a little, struggling to think. "...Say, uh, Newt... I really do appreciate you helpin' me out." The honest truth, but he's not finished. "It means a lot to me, and since you're so smart, it works out. So I know I can always count on you for anything. I'm glad we're friends."

A deep breath, hoping he doesn't mess this up. "And... well... I know you said we all have different kinds of intelligence, but even then, there's still a lot I don't know. So even if you did tell me all the stuff that's going in your heart, maybe I wouldn't understand it all. But... I'd still like to be there for you. I'd still like to listen. I want to be someone you can count on too. I know I can't do much, but whatever I can do... it's all out for you, okay? You're not alone. I mean, you can be, if you want to be... but you don't have to be. No matter what, I'll always listen to whatever you have to say, if you ever want to say anything."

It's...sweet. It makes something in Newt's chest tighten, to hear Mickey talk like that. To be so supportive and kind. It makes that lump rise in his throat and tighten again and his eyes sting. And he wants to tell him. He wants to let go of all of these doubts and fears that have been weighing him down; to set them aside for a moment and maybe let someone else try and deal with them. But as kind as Mickey is, what he says is also...it's so naive. He has absolutely no idea what Newt's been through. He has no idea what he's lost and the sheer scope of it. He has no idea what these kind of places can do to you; how they can tear you down and tear you to pieces without a second thought, just for the amusement or purpose of someone else. How they don't care about who you are or what you've done or what kind of person you are.

And Newt doesn't think he has the strength to pop that bubble of honesty and kindness and sheer ignorance. Even if he could, or even should? He doesn't know if he should, honestly, but either way, what he knows is that he can't. He just can't take on that sort of responsibility. He can't take the blame for taking away that innocence of character that Mickey seems to possess.

So, the offer is sweet. It really is.

But Newt can't accept it.

He swallows, hard, and instead of answering, reaches out to wrap Mickey in a hug, gently. "...thanks." His voice shakes a little, as he says it, and he's not sure what kind of face he's making, but it really doesn't matter, because Mickey can't see it like this.

Of course if Mickey had any idea that the folks here were holding out on him because of his innocence and naivete, he might've been insulted. But he doesn't, and of course because of his innocence and naivete, the thought never occurs to them they were doing it in the first place. The hug only surprises him for half a second, but he returns it as best as his little arms can, a warm smile forming on his face. Now that he knows Newt is A-O-K with hugs, he's going to get a lot more future.

"Anytime, pal." He says kindly, nodding once, unable to see Newt's face but hoping it's some kind of smile too. "Anytime."

It's good that Mickey can't see his face. Newt is quiet for a moment, knowing that the face he's making is what he's started to classify as 'not good.' He has to...he can't make that face. Not in front of Mickey. Not in front of a lot of people. But especially not in front of Mickey because he's just...he's a really good guy. He is.

So Newt swallows and takes a long, slow breath, squeezing Mickey once, gently, before pulling back. He forces the corners of his mouth up into a very small smile--it probably looks shaky at best; Newt is not a good liar--but it's something. It's better than his state before now, anyway, so that's something.

"So, uh--you were tellin' me about your princess, right?"

Mickey hesitates, clearly embarrassed all over again. But it was obvious that Newt didn't want to divulge in any further details about his suffering, and Mickey wasn't going to prod an open wound. So the only real option was to go through Mickey's lovelife again.

"Um, yeah..." Mickey shyly rubbed the back of his neck. "She rules the entire kingdom! She won't become a Queen until she gets hitched." Maybe if he just stuck to the technical details this wouldn't be so mortifying. "I've never seen her leave the castle grounds... which means I never saw her at all, until I became a musketeer."

Newt wrinkles his nose a bit as Mickey explains. "Okay, first of all, she can't become Queen until she gets married? What kinda bull--er--dumb rule is that? And second of all--" ....wait, pause, hold on a minute. "...you're a musketeer?"

who's the leader of the club that's made for you and me?

newt is absolutely rude as heck

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