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make-it-mavis · 5 years ago

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Too Young to Notice, Too Dumb to Care (part 1)

WiR fic (main timeline, ~1984) 5643 words Characters: Turbo, Make-it Mavis, Pyro and Nitro (the Turbo Twins) Content warnings: N/A Premise: It’s 1984, and Mavis and Turbo are young, stupid, and inexperienced -- especially Mavis, who is still working hard to overcome her touch aversion. But there’s a sort of touch she has not attempted, one she barely even understands. When she asks Turbo about it, however, she finds that he’s not exactly an expert on it either. So, with all of two brain cells at their disposal, they tackle the question... What the hell is kissing??

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To any ignorant outsider, it would have seemed like Make-it Mavis and Turbo were friends. All the signs were there -- the way they joked and played, the way they spent more time together than apart, and the way their biting insults seemed to bite just a tad gentler when directed at each other. Many ignorant outsiders did, in fact, make note of their bond. The two sprites were hard enough to ignore on their own, but put together? Their supposed friendship was explosively loud. Over time, it rang out through the very boundaries of the arcade, until there was not a sprite alive who was not at least aware of the gossip they inspired.

Mavis herself was fully aware, too, of course. The arcade’s assumptions were frustrating to her, what with ‘friend’ carrying so many connotations. Connotations she did not sign up for. No, she and Turbo were not friends, and of this fact, she was quite certain. Turbo was a source of fun, one she had been fixated on for some time, but that was all he was. She liked him more than she liked anyone else. She made the decision to trust him with things no other sprite could be cut out for, even touching her, over time. But if things went south, if he became a drag, she would walk away guilt-free.

Friends did not have that kind of freedom.

Even still, even after over a year of knowing him closely and hanging out almost every night, Mavis was excited to spend the evening with Turbo. It had been another boring day of waiting out gameplay, and at last, it was time to go goof off and raise hell with the only other sprite in the arcade who seemed to know how to do it. She trotted casually down the gravely road flanked by trees, absolutely soaked in the relentless Turbo Time sunshine. Every few steps, she took a carefree leap and sailed smoothly through the air on her feathered feet. The boys’ sort of trailer park would be just down the way, but before she quite made it there, she spied a figure up ahead, clad in blue, with an arm around another humanoid sprite.

Had to have been one of the twins, and… somebody.

Knowing Turbo’s brother would not be pleased to see her, and delighting in that fact, Mavis let out a sharp whistle. The two stopped and turned back to look at her as she flew in for a closer look. The guest looked like he must have been from Front Line, with the camo and dog tags and muscles. His cropped black hair was oily, his skin was dirty, and he smelled awful.

The twin just looked like a twin. Mavis was not sure why she expected to recognize him if she got closer.

“Hi cat,” she said anyway, “what’s this you’re draggin’ in?”

“Hey,” the twin said sharply. “That’s my guest you’re talkin’ about. Watch it.”

“Hi Mavis,” the guest said plainly, as if he had been expecting her to be trouble, and accepted it.

“Hiya,” she nodded. Of course the guy knew who she was. She was only the most notorious trickster in the arcade. This particular guest, however… not important enough for Mavis to remember, anyway.

“My name’s McKenzie,” he said, sending that name through Mavis’ ear and out the other. “If you care to know.”

“I don’t, really,” she shrugged. “But now that I’m here, I’m hopin’ Blueballs here brought you in to hose you down like a dog, ‘cause you sure smell like one.”

The twin actually smirked at that, and nudged his hip against McKenzie’s. “Y’really could use a shower.”

“Oh, really, now?” His guest replied, giving the twin a look that Mavis did not quite understand, but still found repulsive.

“O-kay,” she said loudly, “well, it’s been fun. Always quality conversation with you, Pluto.”

“Pyro,” the twin corrected her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she whined dismissively, twirling off into the air, electing to fly directly to the trailer park. It was a short flight, barely a few seconds at her speed, before she came upon the rough-looking, rectangular mobile homes, arranged in a modestly spaced triangle. Mavis knew all three racers wished they could separate their living spaces even farther, but ironically enough, there was nowhere else in the game to move their movable homes to. Not off-screen anyway, and they could not very well air out their wet laundry right where the gamers could see.

She landed and approached Turbo’s trailer -- perhaps the dirtiest of the three, with discarded bottles and cigarette butts littering the sparse grass. She could even smell a fresh cigarette, but following her nose over her shoulder, she found that it was the other twin leaning out of his window and calmly smoking. By process of elimination, that one was Nitro.

Mavis tipped up her chin at him, and he just exhaled a smoky plume in reply, serving her a look of casual distaste. It was on the friendlier end of their spectrum of interaction.

Wasting no more time, she turned back around and knocked hard on Turbo’s door in a musical rhythm.

“Who is it?” Turbo’s gruff voice called.

“It’s Litwak,” Mavis replied impatiently. “Better clear outta here before I unplug your game.”

“As if you could live without me, old man,” she heard him say, among footsteps and keys jangling. Promptly, the door opened, and there was the demon boy himself, clad in the usual white-and-red jumpsuit zipped down and tied at his hips. His overgrown mullet was as fluffy as ever, but Mavis smiled a bit at the thought of the flat dome of helmet hair she knew it had been right after quitting time. He must have spent the whole time since then fixing it.

“What’s that look?” he asked casually as he turned to close the door and lock it.

“Hm?”

“You’re givin’ me a look.”

“Am not,” she said.

“I’m gettin’ real good at readin’ your nasty lil’ mind, Make-it,” he said as he stepped off the tiny stairs to his door and turned to head towards the gravel path back to Game Central. “And y’know what your face is sayin’ to me, right now? It’s sayin’-- Oh, gag me with a spoon.”

“Wow. Not even close.”

“No,” he rolled his eyes. “Pyro’s brought a friend home.”

Sure enough, Pyro and McWhatever had arrived on the scene, and the twin was unlocking his door with a self-satisfied smile. Mavis got the distinct impression that he knew Turbo was hating what he saw, and relishing it.

“Yeah, so?” she asked Turbo, a bit perplexed.

“So, let’s get outta here before they get a chance to get into it,” he said, taking off with a swift pace. Mavis hovered along next to him.

“Get into what?”

As the two of them passed his trailer, Pyro called out with devilish glee, “Seeya in the mornin’, little brother!”

Without looking, Turbo called back coldly, “Yeah-huh. Have fun swappin’ your spit for the hundredth time this week.”

“‘Least I’m gettin’ any!”

“‘Least I ain't a sleazebag!”

The exchange seemed to be over as she and Turbo put more distance between themselves and the trailer park, but Mavis was confused to the point of irritation. No one seemed to be saying what they meant, at least not to her ears. Like it was all some kind of code that she had not been taught. Some weird brother-code.

“What’s swappin’ spit?” she demanded, craning over Turbo’s head like a vulture as he walked.

“Nothing,” he grumbled dismissively, fishing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and patting for a lighter.

“What’s Pyro getting?!” she asked more sharply.

“Nothing-- who cares, okay? I don’t wanna think about what my brother’s gettin’. Let’s just forget it and cut right to the hell-raising, aye?”

Mavis did not like giving up, but she did not want Turbo to be in a bad mood for what was supposed to be a fun night. He could get so annoying when he was grumpy. But she would find out the truth later, that much she decided right then and there.

Turbo lit up a cigarette, and the two left the subject behind entirely.

The rest of the evening carried on in the usual sort of erratic way, with the pair doing whatever happened to come into their heads with no regard for others. Some time was spent in Frogger, setting fire to items pulled from Mavis’ hoard, and watching the flames float down the river like funeral pyres. Another little while was spent in Ghosts ‘n Goblins causing general unrest, finding particular joy in knocking on gravestones and hiding while the confused rotting dead rose to find no one there. When a group of angry ghosts chased them out, Mavis and Turbo found themselves hungry, and swung by Burger Time to pick up some take out to bring into Rampage.

Rampage was a favorite of Mavis’, even just to relax in. It was neither dark nor bright, neither day or night, with the sky a vibrant but deep blue just dark enough to paint the tall figures of distant buildings in shadow. It was also both loud and quiet, with tanks below, helicopters above, and three beastly titans, well, rampaging freely through the fully destructible city, but a big enough map that there was always somewhere far enough to sit out of the proper cacophony.

It was in one of those far reaches that Mavis and Turbo found themselves around 3 AM, perched at the very top of a building with their feet hanging off the edge. They ate their food and chatted, casually watching a huge ape and werewolf roughhouse some ways away, deeper into the city.

“See, why can’t my game be this cool?” Mavis complained through a mouthful of burger. “It’s the same basic idea. Big gorilla wrecks buildings ‘n crap.”

Turbo snorted. “Your gorilla just ain’t big enough.”

“And we only got one building,” she grumbled. “And, hey, that werewolf out there? His name is Ralph.”

“What? No way,” Turbo disputed with a smile, “What kinda name is that for a big, badass werewolf?”

Mavis shrugged, smiling back, “Ask the Devs. I guess he wasn’t always a werewolf. That’s how werewolves work, right? He was just some guy named Ralph. Lucky him, now he’s interesting. My game would be way more interesting if our Ralph got turned into a werewolf. But fat chance of that ever happening.”

“Y’know what,” he said matter-of-factly as he popped a fry in his mouth, “the Ralphs should switch places for a day.”

Mavis half-guffawed.

Turbo continued, “Yeah, I mean, big Ralph would be real good at little Ralph’s job. He’d probably decimate Niceland with a single kick.”

“Take more than a few whacks from a hammer to fix that,” Mavis commented.

“We’d call it ‘hard mode.’ It’d be a hit.”

Mavis looked around, considering her surroundings. “Y’know, the gamers do the wrecking in this one, right? So Ralph would be the Good Guy here. I wonder how he’d feel about that. Maybe he wouldn’t be such a stick in the mud anymore.”

“Daresay that Fix-it would have less time to bug you with an entire city to fix,” Turbo pointed out. “Though he’d have to be the Bad Guy, ‘n man, there ain’t a bad bone in that choir boy’s body.”

“Hell, give him a shot,” Mavis shrugged dramatically. “Not like he’s all that good at bein’ a Good Guy either.”

Turbo chuckled a bit, but otherwise fell silent, and she did as well. Then the silence became awkward. Mavis chastised herself quietly for letting any bit of her emotional baggage with her cousin slip into her tone. Turbo knew how she felt. He even knew why she felt that way, what had happened, what Fix-it had done. And, blessedly, he was on her side for all of it. But, still, it was an emotional subject to just throw into casual conversation, and Mavis knew it. She was still getting used to having another sprite in the know on her… family issues.

Topic change. Topic change. Topic change.

Bingo.

“Ready to tell me why Pyro havin’ friends is so horrifying?” she asked suddenly.

Turbo sighed gruffly, smacking his tongue. “They’re not his friends, okay, that’s just-- y’know-- and it ain’t horrifyin’, it’s just gross. Nasty. I don’t need to know every time my brother makes out with someone. I don’t need that image.”

“Uh huh,” she tapped her heel back against the brick wall below, “and ‘makes out’ means…?”

Turbo paused before giving her a very peculiar look, as if she were the one not making sense. “Are you asking me what ‘making out’ is?”

“Yes,” she snapped a bit. “I’m asking you what ‘making out’ is. Will ya just tell me?”

“Well, it’s--” he shrugged sharply, shaking his head. “I mean-- it’s kissing and junk. How could you not know that?”

Mavis paused. “...Kissing?”

“Don’t tell me y’don’t know what that is.”

“I know what kissing is, ya dick. I just mean… kissing? Really? Like-- well, on the mouth, right?”

“Obviously. Where else?” Turbo regretted asking, by the look on his face. He grimaced at whatever thought just came up.

“Oh,” Mavis lifted her finger, “oh. Oh, okay. Yeah. They’re not his friends. They’re his boyfriends.”

Turbo groaned a bit. “Not exactly.”

“But… kissing’s all romantic-whatever, right? Only sprites who are in love kiss on the mouth.”

At that, Turbo outright cackled. It startled Mavis so bad, she quite nearly fell off the ledge. Turbo set his food down behind him and stood, waving her off as he walked to the middle of the roof and laughed it out. Mavis felt her face heating up, just knowing she had said something stupid and now had to somehow recover from it. She stood as well, crossing over to the chortling demon boy.

“If you’re gonna laugh in my face, at least say why before you saunter off,” she told him, annoyed.

“Look, dollface, if you hit me with another joke like that, I was gonna go tumbling right down to my death, arright?” he told her, straightening up and grinning. “I mean-- I mean, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

She hesitated. “No.”

“Oh, oh my Devs.”

“I said ‘no!’”

“Okay, okay,” Turbo said, placing steady hands on her shoulders, but still sporting that delighted smile. He touched his chest, “I ain’t being fair, okay? I’ll admit that. ‘Cause I’m gonna take a wild leap ‘n say all the education you’ve had on the subject has been what your cousin’s told ya.”

“Well--” she frowned. “Ugh. Yeah. But why would he lie to me about-- about kissing rules, or--?”

“Dunno if ‘lie’ is the right word. It’s probably what he personally believes, babe,” he nodded. “The guy’s about as traditional as they come. He probably told ya that because he wants you to be just as traditional as he is. And to keep ya from kissin’ anybody. To protect you from sprites like-- Well, like my brother.”

Mavis backed off from him, rolling her eyes. “I don’t need protection--” she paused. “Wait, like your brother? What’s he doin’, exactly?”

“Mmm,” Turbo put his hands on his hips. “How can I put this? All the boys-- and sometimes girls-- that Pyro brings home? Not boyfriends, not girlfriends. Just conquests. Pyro goes for numbers. And-- well, he doesn’t care about any of ‘em. Not even to the point of bein’ decent. He can get pretty manipulative about it, s’far as I’ve heard. And no matter what, after he’s had his fill a’ makin’ out, he gives ‘em the boot. Seen a fair share of cryin’ sprites leavin’ the game before.”

“Wow…”

Mavis considered all that. Suddenly, Turbo’s disgust made more sense. That really was a reprehensible way to treat other sprites, and that was saying a lot, coming from her. A strange thought crept into her head, one that questioned whether the way she used sprites for fun while refusing friendship was any similar to what Pyro did. Whether it was any similar to what she was doing to Turbo. Was she manipulating him without even realizing?

No. No, it was different. It had to be. Mavis only ever protected herself. Pyro was taking whatever he wanted. She would never do what he did.

A humorless half-smirk appeared on Mavis’ face. “So Fix-it’s afraid I’ll fall victim to some kinda romantic manipulation, then? Doesn’t he know I’ve got a cold, spiky heart?”

“He must,” Turbo shrugged, “if he wanted you to think that makin’ out is just a lovers’ thing. If you believe that, you’ll never so much as kiss anybody, and he’s never gotta picture his sweet baby cousin doin’ grown-up touching.”

Mavis twitched. She could feel her hard-wired defiant nature bristling up. “That’s it, isn’t it? He thinks I'm his responsibility. Like I can't make good choices for-- for my touch life.”

Turbo scoffed. “‘Touch life?’ Y'really wanna go with that?"

"What else should I call it?"

"I'unno Mav, don'tcha think that's a bit generous for the amount a touchin’ you do? I mean, I'm flattered that bein' able to touch me is worth a whole life to ya--"

“Hey,” Mavis growled, pointing, “hey, are you kiddin’ me right now?”

“Okay, okay,” Turbo sighed and put his hands up, “don’t make a thing of it.”

Mavis fumed, stomping over to him as she rolled up her sleeves. There was the slightest twinge of confusion and alarm in Turbo’s eyes, almost as if he expected her to take a swing at him, but she only seized his arm. With a harsh yank, she pulled him closer, and she rubbed the bare skin of her forearm against his. She could feel her code prickling a bit under her skin, but she had worked so hard to become accustomed to the feeling, it barely mattered anymore.

“See that?" she said firmly, “You've seen what'd happen if I tried this six months ago. This here's a big deal. Don't make fun of it, dickweed."

“Yeah, I know-- I take your point,” Turbo said through a rueful smile, pulling his arm away. “Sheesh, I was just buggin’ you.”

“You’re good at that.”

“I’m good at everything,” he rolled his eyes, “and you’re pretty good at being touched now, okay? And I’m sure that if you keep workin’ on it, one day you’ll even be able to handle kissing somebody, or makin’ out, or whatever sorta things would horrify your cousin. I’m sure that’ll be good motivation for you.”

“Y’don’t think I could handle it right now?” Mavis asked, brow cocked.

Turbo gave a short laugh. “Uh, yeah. It’s a bit different from rubbin’ arms.”

Mavis’ eyes narrowed. A challenge was standing directly in front of her, and that defiant instinct of hers grabbed onto it with both hands. He would be proven wrong. He would be proven so wrong.

“Show me.”

Still smiling, Turbo blinked and paused. “What?”

“Kiss me,” she said boldly, stepping closer. “I dare you.”

While Turbo’s smile did not disappear, it shifted into a more nervous shade. His eyes darted around just once, looking for an audience that was not there. “Right now?” he asked, his voice high.

“Right now,” Mavis agreed, straightening up and grinning. “Kiss me right here. Prove to me that I can’t handle it.”

“Well…” he breathed, pausing for a while to stare at her. “Alright, then, weirdo. I’ll give ya one freebie. Hope y’know how lucky you are.”

“Shut up and make with the kiss.”

A bit of an indignant scoff rolled from Turbo’s throat and out of his nose, but he obliged her request. That is, he began to oblige her request. Slowly, he began to bring his face closer, pausing and letting his eyes fall to her mouth, as if making sure he was still on course. Mavis merely watched, intrigued and perplexed by his process. Once he was close enough for her to practically taste the salt on his lips, he cleared his throat.

“What?” Mavis asked plainly.

Meeting her stare point-blank, he mumbled, “You’re supposed to close your eyes.”

“Oh,” Mavis promptly closed her eyes. It seemed strange to her, but it was all strange to her. She had figured Turbo would have been done already, but it was almost like he had stage fright, what with how slow he took it and how he did not want her to watch. But it was just a kiss, something that took literally no skill. No one could be bad at kissing.

Or so she believed, right up until something warm and slimy dragged across her mouth.

“What th--”

Tearing her head away from the tentacle onslaught that just assaulted her lips, she spat and sputtered, shoving Turbo back and stumbling in a direction steered only by her disgust. She wiped aggressively at her mouth, smearing off a horrifying amount of saliva. “What-- pfft-- the hell-- pbbt-- was that?!”

“A kiss, dumbass! Or it would’ve been if y’didn’t bail half a second in! But I told ya! Didn’t I tell ya?! You’re not up to it!”

He was offended. He was very deeply offended.

“That,” she said, finally turning to face him again, “was not a kiss! You licked my mouth! Who have you been makin’ out with, the Duck Hunt dog?!”

Indignantly, he said, “I ain’t been makin’ out with anybody.”

Despite his obvious lack of experience, Mavis still found that surprising, if only because she had not thought to question it before. “Why not? You’re one of them touchy-types.”

“Yeah, don’t call me that,” he said flatly. “Just ‘cause I can stand bein’ touched doesn’t mean I want everyone to touch me. This here--” he gestured a circle around his face, “--this ain’t free parking. I ain’t my sleaze-bag of a brother.”

“So,” Mavis lowered her volume just a bit, “y’don’t wanna be kissed, then? Y’could’a just said no when I asked.”

The demon boy blew through his lips and turned his gaze out to the city, running a rough hand through his messy hair. “No, it’s whatever. It’s kinda different with you.”

At that, Mavis’ heart hit an unsteady beat, and she felt a bit of warmth rush to her face, but not in the most pleasant way. She was almost afraid that she had steered her dynamic with Turbo in the wrong direction, and that she would have to bail for good at any second.

“Wh-What’s that mean?” she stammered a bit.

He seemed to pick up on her vibe. “Well, I know you, is what I mean. You ain’t some rando. Doesn’t hurt that you’re a cute girl.”

His physical attraction to her was never really a secret, and for that reason, it did not bother her for him to say that. Mavis may not have entirely understood what physical attraction entailed as far as one’s feelings towards the object of attraction went, but so far, it had not gotten in the way of them having fun together. So, she figured there was no sense worrying about it.

“That’s fair,” she nodded.

“And, y’know, whatever. It’s just for getting over your no-touchiness. It’s not even real.”

Mavis pondered that, tapping her hip lightly. “Yeah,” she agreed, “exactly. We don’t even gotta think of it like our first times… y’know, respectively. It’s just a practice run.”

“Well, whatever y’call it, y’better be grateful,” Turbo looked at his nails, “‘cause I got droves of adorin’ fans who’d kill to have a practice round with me.”

Mavis scoffed wetly. “After what you just did to me? No, they really wouldn’t.”

“Look,” he rolled his eyes, throwing a hand up,“there’s tongue in kissing! That’s a real thing!”

“Wh-- No, there’s not! What the hell do you think kissing is?!”

Turbo paused, suddenly squinting at her. Suspiciously, he said, “What do you think kissing is?”

Mavis swallowed, but quickly strode over. “I can’t believe I have to show you this,” she said, before leaning in… and craning her head around to plant a quick, sheepish kiss on his cheek, immediately chastising herself for avoiding his mouth. Once she pulled back, she could not quite pinpoint the emotion on Turbo’s face. He was just stunned.

“Did… I just blow your mind, or…?” she mumbled.

“That-- That wasn’t--” he pointed to his mouth, “we’re talkin’ about this kinda kiss.”

“‘Kay, well, excuse me for bein’ cautious a’ you trying to swallow my entire head again,” she said begrudgingly, “but, fine.”

Quick as a mouse, she took the very same kiss and planted it right on his lips before pulling away. It did not feel all that different to her, she noted thankfully. His lips were just a bit softer than his cheek, but that felt like an inconsequential thing to notice.

All the same, she noticed it.

“There,” she said. “See? I told you I could do it.”

Turbo closed his eyes and took a moment to scratch the back of his neck. “...Yeah, see,” he groaned a bit, “that’s not… at all… what I’ve been talkin’ about. Ain’t you ever seen anyone kiss on the lips?”

“I don’t exactly go lookin’ for couples-- or whatever-- to watch ‘em kiss, Turbo.” Mavis could feel herself about to regret her words, “I see cheek kissin’ all the time, and how much different can it be on the mouth?”

Turbo just stared at her, this disbelieving humor sitting behind his eyes. “You’re precious, y’know that? You’re just a peach.”

“Am not,” she huffed. “Don’t say that. It’s weird.”

“You’re a grown-ass woman and still somehow think that a kiss on the lips lasts about point-five seconds. That’s adorable. So unlike a trash-eatin’ gremlin to be so innocent.”

“Oh, I’ll show you innocent,” Mavis growled, stepping right into his space again, practically nose-to-nose. “I’m gonna get this right, and it’s gonna rock your world, hotshot, no matter how long it takes.”

Turbo only had time to load a chuckle in his mouth before Mavis’ lips snuffed it out. This time, she would do better. Maybe not quite right, but better. If time was the issue, she would keep her lips against his just as long as it took for him to stop laughing at her. It was easy enough -- she merely replicated her small peck from before, but held it there, motionless, waiting.

It did not take long for Turbo to make a small, uncertain grunt in his throat.

“Don’t lick me,” she told him, muffled against his lips.

“I’m not gonna lick you,” he said right back.

“Am I doin’ this right, yet?”

“Does it feel right to you?”

“How’s it supposed to feel?”

He shrugged. “Awesome?”

Mavis took the time to consider that before answering. She counted the things she felt physically. From the neck down, she felt completely normal, but her face… was full of Turbo. He was just right there, literally face-to-face, right against her mouth. She could smell the burger grease left over, and even with her lips closed, she could sort of taste it, which, while it was not a bad taste, felt weird to get second-hand… or second-mouth. The breath from his nose was leaving a sort of wetness against her cheek. Her pursed lips were kind of falling asleep. It was weird. All of it was weird.

But did she feel awesome emotionally? ...No. No, she just felt frustrated.

At last, she pulled away, avoiding his gaze to glare at his collar. “Not awesome,” she grumbled.

“Ee-yeah, didn’t think so,” Turbo muttered.

“I don’t get it,” she said, meeting his eyes again. “How’s kissing supposed to be so great that sprites wanna do it all the time, just for fun?”

“Well,” he half-laughed, “they don’t do it like that, that’s for sure. Supposedly, it is pretty damn awesome if you do it right.”

“But--”

Mavis was quickly cut off as the deafening thudding of helicopter blades drew near. Turbo stepped away, attempting to hold his hair out of his suddenly outraged face, but Mavis just let hers whip around wildly. From the direction of the city proper, one of the game’s helicopters had hovered over. Its pilot did not seem too alarmed by them, given its lazy speed, but it was always in the best interest of game characters to keep an eye on her and Turbo. Mavis supposed they were just checking in to make sure no bombs were being made or anything -- something Mavis suddenly wished they had been doing instead of fruitlessly trying to kiss. Bombs would have been way more fun.

After Turbo put an arm out by his side, giving the pilot a silent gesture of, “What,” they seemed to decide all was well, and the aircraft carried on its way, flying back to the city to monitor the beasts.

“Can’t a gal just sit on a roof eatin’ burgers anymore?” Mavis asked no one in particular.

Turbo was growling, too busy trying to put his hair back in the very specific mess he liked to answer her. “Stupid-- freakin’-- helicopters-- freakin’ bird-brain piece a’ scrap metal--”

Mavis’ heart jumped as another roaring sound rudely interrupted them, only this time, it was an actual roar. It came right from the center of the city, right where the rampaging monsters had been playing around. Gazing out, Mavis could see that both creatures were looking right at her, even waving. She grinned a bit. Just like with any other sprite, Mavis did not really consider the monsters from Rampage her friends, per se, but they sure were a lot of fun to play around with. The big, lumbering oafs loved to chase her around and try to knock her out of the air -- something they tried to do gently, but still ended up sending Mavis back to Fix-it with her share of broken bones on more than one occasion. But that was just how Mavis liked her fun.

She withdrew her brush, painted feathers on her heels, and rose a bit into the air to wave back at them. With another flick of her brush, she painted a megaphone and called out to them, “HI, YA BIG UGLY BEASTIES! WHAT’S UP?!”

From below, Turbo groaned loudly, and she looked down to see him covering his ears and glaring sharply. “Really?” he hissed.

George, the gorilla, hooted and bellowed again. He and big Ralph were making beckoning arm motions, even picking up chunks of debris and swinging them around in a playful display. Mavis’ sense of fun perked up like a pair of ears.

“DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE,” she shouted with a grin.

Big Ralph let out a howl that ripped through the atmosphere like it was nothing at all. The boys were so nonsensically loud, and she loved it.

“OH, WHAT,” she called, “YA THINK Y’CAN CATCH ME THIS TIME?!”

At that, Turbo cleared his throat in protest. Looking down, she found him folding his arms and tapping his foot, clearly displeased with her. The megaphone in her hand despawned, and she lowered back to the roof to face Turbo.

“Hi,” she said, just prompting him to be out with it.

“You’re gonna just ditch me for those guys?” he hissed.

Mavis sighed. Whether she was actually too flippant or Turbo was too sensitive, she was not sure, but it was not the first time he got snippy over her hanging out with other sprites. It was not as if she was actually abandoning him -- she was just naturally wired to go where the fun was. He would have to understand that, she thought, if he ever wanted to really understand her.

But, then again, she still could not have been sure just what level of understanding she wanted between her and her… frequent playmate.

“I’m not ditching you,” she groaned. “Look, I’ll be right back, okay? Stay here ‘n finish your food. I’ll just goof off with these guys for a couple games of tag, or something.”

Turbo scoffed. “Thanks. It’s real cozy here on the backburner.”

“Don’t be such a killjoy, okay,” she snapped. “I gotta go shake off how weird it was tryin’ to lock lips with you.”

He was quiet for just a moment, holding her in a narrow-eyed glare.

“Fine. Whatever,” he threw an arm up a bit. “Go pretend like you didn’t love it. I’ll just sit back here ‘n quietly eat all your fries.”

As she rose back into the air, she pointed at him and warned, “I’ll cut you open ‘n eat ‘em outta your guts if ya so much as think about it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved her off, dismissing her completely as he walked back to the ledge of the building where their food sat. She waited only a few seconds before whistling through the air, quickly passing over broken buildings that reached up like outstretched arms. There was an itch in the back of her neck, a sort of fix for fun that needed to be sated after all that awkwardness. What she said was true -- she did have to break out of the frustrated funk that all the failed kissing had put her in.

Strangely, though, she sort of wished that she had been less of a jerk about it.

Because despite the awkwardness, she really did want to figure out how to get it just right. If other sprites could kiss and find a way to enjoy it, then she could, too. And Turbo? Maybe he deserved a bit more credit for helping her. Devs knew there was no one else in the arcade she could try it with. No one else she would have wanted to.

But that still did not mean they were friends. So long as she did not say so.

#fanfiction #wreck it ralph #turbo #make it mavis #the shitgoblins #hi everyone ive been #real sick #but heres the start of something real dumb #pure teenage-ish shitgoblin dumbassery #also im aware that the title is from a really sad song and this is a silly fic #but thats how the mebbis do

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turbomun · 7 years ago

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Ghost Boy revamp -- all alterations & changes

I’ve had a few commenters mention that they’re wondering what, specifically, changed between the current and former versions of Ghost Boy; they could tell that it was different but weren’t sure how. Well, wonder no more, because I’m about to tell you exactly what I did and why!

CHARACTERIZATION

Turbo His personality is more or less the same as it was in the original, but I pushed one element a little further. It’s no secret that I relate to Turbo the most out of all the WIR characters, so back in 2012, I applied a lot of my own experiences towards my portrayal of him (“hmm, I engage in attention-seeking behaviors for X reason, maybe Turbo also engages in attention-seeking behaviors for X reason”). However, in 2012, I had not yet been diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder, which I later discovered was actually a huge part of my personality. IMO, you could definitely make a case for Turbo being autistic-coded in the original Ghost Boy, but I definitely made it more overt in the new version. This has the additional benefit of making it clear that, pre-RoadBlasters, he was mainly teased for his behavior and not his appearance. (In the original, it was supposed to be more like he thought he was being made fun of for the way he looked, and only later figured out that it was more because of the way he acted, but I’m not sure how clear that was.)

Vanellope She was definitely always the biggest characterization casualty in the first version of the fic -- way too cutesy, cried too much, didn’t stand up for herself nearly often enough. I’m going to partially excuse this by mentioning that 1) Ghost Boy was originally based on a roleplay and roleplays tend to have a lot of wangst in them because it’s more fun that way, and 2) the movie had literally just come out in theatres and I hadn’t watched it 999999999 times to get a better handle on how all of the characters acted. But make no mistake, the way I wrote her has been bothering me for ages. In the end, this wasn’t a difficult fix; all I had to do was add her to some scenes where she was absent before, replace most of the being afraid and/or crying scenes with more courageous behavior, and make it unambiguously her decision to reset Turbo. Having a better grasp on her dialogue and mannerisms also helped.

King Candy Mostly I felt that he was a bit too “generic evil” in his appearances. Obviously I wanted him to be threatening, but in the original Ghost Boy, he didn’t have a lot of the traits that made King Candy such an eerie and charming villain in the first place. I have to give a big shout-out to my former RP partner @thekingofkarts for giving me a model of how to write him better, ESPECIALLY his dialogue. Also, I emphasized his canonical tendency to try manipulation tactics before resorting to violence; yes, he’s a little more maniacal than his film counterpart due to being malware, but he at least makes an attempt to achieve his goals with the minimum amount of physical force, mostly in chapter 12 when he tries smooth-talking Turbo to get him out of the way.

Other characters I swapped out or edited certain lines of dialogue to make sure that everyone sounded like themselves. There are various other minor edits that come from seeing the movie about 200 times and being much more familiar with each character’s personality.

STORY

Removal of confusing, unnecessary details As mentioned previously, Ghost Boy started out as a roleplay, which went on for a good chunk of time before we got to the part about Turbo. Some of those previous events played into resurrecting him, and when I wrote the fic, I couldn’t think of a good way to extract him from those events (which were also going to be detailed in my unfinished first WIR fanfic, If It Ain’t Broke). So I kept them in at the time, only to realize years later what I could have done instead. The main thing I got rid of was Fix-It Felix Jr. being unplugged, because literally everyone who read the fic rightfully hated that part, and the confusing-ass Elvira subplot. And yes, that means that King Candy can no longer fire energy spheres out of his hands. What a loss.

Wangst cleanup If you go on the tvtropes page for Ghost Boy, the YMMV section mentions how the amount of crying scenes in the story can be a little exhausting. I didn’t write that entry, but I completely agree with it. On one hand, there’s a lot of emotional moments by virtue of what the story actually is, but on the other, it makes the story drag and your sympathy for the characters wears thin after a while. Hell, this even turned at least one person off the fic completely, as mentioned in a tvtropes review that was removed a while ago. So I did my best to emphasize that the characters are feeling strong emotions, but also expressing this in ways besides crying (Vanellope getting angry with Turbo when he accuses her of lying, Turbo essentially going into shock after the Rainbow Bridge confrontation, Turbo screaming at Ralph after hearing the whole story, etc.). A lot of this also comes from Vanellope being less of a Helpless Child(TM).

Scene swaps/removals

These mostly came about when, over the years, I suddenly realized that there was a more effective and/or interesting way to get across a certain point than what I’d actually written in the original fic. Writing the revised version, I finally had a chance to use these ideas:

Most prominently, the prologue (originally a flash-forward to Turbo learning the truth via watching a race video, because I just couldn’t wait to write that scene) is now completely different and much shorter.

Similarly, Turbo’s first nightmare is not a straight-up written version of the Turbo Reveal scene from the film, and instead consists of King Candy harassing Turbo from a mirror -- based on a pre-movie oneshot I wrote in which the exact opposite thing happened.

I also repurposed an old oneshot that nobody remembers in the scene where Vanellope takes Turbo to Diet Cola Mountain; that scene started out as a pretty pointless close call with some Sugar Rush racers, but I decided that it would be a good opportunity to set up some foreshadowing without everything being in a dream.

Ironically, the Turbo reveal scene, which appeared a grand total of three times in the original Ghost Boy (it’s almost like that’s my favorite scene or something) only appears once, as a dream sequence in chapter 10, replacing the wangstier one where Turbo dreams of flying into boiling diet cola.

The scene in the viewing room where Turbo watches the reveal scene was scrapped in favor of an argument with Vanellope (as part of the Give Vanny More Agency 2k17 initiative).

Almost all of chapter 13 was rewritten for characterization and wangst-purging purposes.

There are other, minor edits that don’t exactly replace entire scenes, but change the flow of the story overall, such as: the “I’m a monster” motif being taken out because it’s a cliche (Frozen was what really killed this for me); Vanellope standing up to King Candy in chapter 15; the family discussion in that same chapter taking place in the forest; and Vanellope and Turbo activating the beacon themselves in chapter 17, rather than asking the adults to do it.

OTHER ALTERATIONS

Writing style Somehow, my years of writing practice have resulted in my developing a very wordy prose style. (I think I just like to show off my vocabulary. I honestly cannot emphasize enough how similar I am to Turbo.) I didn’t completely fix this in the new Ghost Boy because 1) it’s not necessarily always a bad thing, 2) it would have required a full rewrite, and 3) this is something that I’ve only just now started to address in my most recent works. However, I did take the liberty of going back and rephrasing awkwardly worded sections, giving you that smooth and silky reading experience that you so obviously crave.

Edits for canonical accuracy This was just addressing minor errors, such as mistakes in the way I described Sugar Rush’s architecture, as well as straightening out the timeline of what got plugged in and when. For the curious:

Turbo Time -- plugged in 1981, unplugged 1987 (based on Rally-X, its obvious design inspiration)

Fix-It Felix Jr. -- plugged in 1982 (based on the movie)

Tapper -- plugged in 1984 (based on the original Tapper rather than the Root Beer Tapper clone, because if you look at the design, the one in WIR is pretty clearly the alcoholic version no matter how much Disney tries to convince you otherwise)

RoadBlasters -- plugged in 1987, unplugged shortly afterwards (based on its actual release date)

Sugar Rush -- plugged in 1997 (based on the bonus commercial created to promote the movie)

The events of WIR take place in November 2012 (1982 + 30 years). Ghost Boy takes place slightly over a year later, in November/December of 2013; Turbo’s reset day is November 20, and the fic ends around December 14-15. (I didn’t even realize it took place right around Christmas until I sat down and hashed this out.)

I think that’s pretty much everything. On the off chance that you have any questions, you can of course feel free to ask. Anyway, I had a blast with the new Ghost Boy and I’m quite happy with how it turned out!

#ghost boy #wir #turbo

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