Story Time.
A long time ago, when I was still using purgatory as a personal journal, I started a humble little series that I, not surprisingly, never completed. It was about an AU version of the "Sparda Family". You know, if they lived a perfectly happy life in the wonderful world of Suburbia.
The first chapter. Too lazy to find the others, just this moment.
Anyway, sitting in my car at lunch, I was thinking about it, and the fact that no_martyr once actually text message'd me to tell me that she and exorcize believed I should continue it. Well, finally, I've gotten some air as to what I should do with it, incorporating some new fandoms, some old fandoms, and some logical choices to make a new neighborhood in my head for them, also based heavily on exorcize's horrid influences (like her story of Sparda picking the boys up from school after Dante cut his finger off, and flipping people off in his gigantic SUV)
I should note that these are meant to be as small as this, generally.
First up? Dante getting kicked out of the house by Vergil, only to witness familial love between next-door neigbors Ichigo Kurosaki and Isshin Kurosaki, during the first day of his summer vacation.
Many, many years later:
Dante knew that familiar feel of the first day of summer. Oh yes, he did.
A chronic slacker, it would have been easy to think the first day of summer wouldn’t feel any different than any other day… but, oh, it did, because everyone else was out and about during the weekdays, instead of diligently studying in school. Well. Everyone other than his parents, and the bad case of bed head he hadn’t bothered to fix, caused by having his head pinched between two pillows, to stop from hearing their noises, told the tale as to why they were still locked in their third-story room.
The first sign of summer came from next door, as he tromped outside onto the porch. He was disgruntled as he did so, too. His fairy of a twin brother was baking shit, and, apparently, licking beaters was unsanitary. It wasn’t like the germs would survive the heat, but the fag slapped him (that hurt) and said to get the hell out until the cake (or whatever it was, all Dante knew was that it was vanilla, and it had better’ve been cake, or cupcakes) was in the oven. So, against his vow to sloth around in the darkness of his bedroom all summer, Dante walked outside and beheld that first sign of summer.
The door of the two story house next door erupted with a crash and a scream…
And there went Ichigo Kurosaki, as messy as Dante, flying down the long driveway, as fast as his feet would carry him.
On his tail was none other than his father, Isshin, tearing after him with a discharging fire extinguisher, and in a hideous orange and blue ensemble. That hurt Dante, who gave about two shits less if his clothes matched, normally. “Get back here!” the man hollered. Dante remained fairly unenthused.
“I’m your goddamn son!”
“I want a hug!”
“Get it from Yuzu!”
It was then that Ichigo disappeared behind the waist-high hedges, separating the two yards, when that discharging fire extinguisher hit his back with the twang of metal, and a large puff of white. Undeterred, as his son hit the ground, Isshin was charging in, to leap on Ichigo, dog-pile style. At least, he tried, until the teenager swung a foot up and smooshed it into his father’s face; all the while, he was screaming. Loud.
“Rape!! Rape!!”
“You’re not s’posed to scream ‘Rape’, Ichii!” Isshin replied, with a flail of his arms. His forehead pushed against Ichigo’s foot (when the logical thing would have been to pull away). “It’s ‘fire’!” A strained grunt. “People like fire, Ichii! It’s pretty! But ‘rape’ means danger!”
“It’s-“ Ichigo recoiled his leg, and snapped it out against Isshin’s head. “-rape!”
The older man went flailing as he fell backwards from the hit, and disappeared from the then extremely amused white haired teen on his porch. What he wouldn’t have done to have Vergil’s [faggy] camcorder, right then. See, he normally missed that sort of thing, what with sneaking out of the house on weekdays, and sleeping in until two or three in the afternoon on weekends. He knew it happened, because God knew others were eager to talk about the morning ritual of the Kurosakis (because they were Asian, and therefore, obviously, fascinating) whenever they saw him.
But then, he was getting to see it in all its firsthand glory. It was, indeed, going to be a good summer, wasn’t it?
Well, he thought so, until his [faggy] brother showed up at the front door, announcing, monotone and darkly (like the faggy goth wanna-be he was, Dante insisted), “Mom’s making dad have a neighborhood barbeque tomorrow.”
Yeah. That wasn’t so good, considering the last time they had one, they ended up moving across the country to avoid the aftershock.
Edit: And this time, in appropriate coding flavor.
The first chapter. Too lazy to find the others, just this moment.
Anyway, sitting in my car at lunch, I was thinking about it, and the fact that no_martyr once actually text message'd me to tell me that she and exorcize believed I should continue it. Well, finally, I've gotten some air as to what I should do with it, incorporating some new fandoms, some old fandoms, and some logical choices to make a new neighborhood in my head for them, also based heavily on exorcize's horrid influences (like her story of Sparda picking the boys up from school after Dante cut his finger off, and flipping people off in his gigantic SUV)
I should note that these are meant to be as small as this, generally.
First up? Dante getting kicked out of the house by Vergil, only to witness familial love between next-door neigbors Ichigo Kurosaki and Isshin Kurosaki, during the first day of his summer vacation.
Many, many years later:
Dante knew that familiar feel of the first day of summer. Oh yes, he did.
A chronic slacker, it would have been easy to think the first day of summer wouldn’t feel any different than any other day… but, oh, it did, because everyone else was out and about during the weekdays, instead of diligently studying in school. Well. Everyone other than his parents, and the bad case of bed head he hadn’t bothered to fix, caused by having his head pinched between two pillows, to stop from hearing their noises, told the tale as to why they were still locked in their third-story room.
The first sign of summer came from next door, as he tromped outside onto the porch. He was disgruntled as he did so, too. His fairy of a twin brother was baking shit, and, apparently, licking beaters was unsanitary. It wasn’t like the germs would survive the heat, but the fag slapped him (that hurt) and said to get the hell out until the cake (or whatever it was, all Dante knew was that it was vanilla, and it had better’ve been cake, or cupcakes) was in the oven. So, against his vow to sloth around in the darkness of his bedroom all summer, Dante walked outside and beheld that first sign of summer.
The door of the two story house next door erupted with a crash and a scream…
And there went Ichigo Kurosaki, as messy as Dante, flying down the long driveway, as fast as his feet would carry him.
On his tail was none other than his father, Isshin, tearing after him with a discharging fire extinguisher, and in a hideous orange and blue ensemble. That hurt Dante, who gave about two shits less if his clothes matched, normally. “Get back here!” the man hollered. Dante remained fairly unenthused.
“I’m your goddamn son!”
“I want a hug!”
“Get it from Yuzu!”
It was then that Ichigo disappeared behind the waist-high hedges, separating the two yards, when that discharging fire extinguisher hit his back with the twang of metal, and a large puff of white. Undeterred, as his son hit the ground, Isshin was charging in, to leap on Ichigo, dog-pile style. At least, he tried, until the teenager swung a foot up and smooshed it into his father’s face; all the while, he was screaming. Loud.
“Rape!! Rape!!”
“You’re not s’posed to scream ‘Rape’, Ichii!” Isshin replied, with a flail of his arms. His forehead pushed against Ichigo’s foot (when the logical thing would have been to pull away). “It’s ‘fire’!” A strained grunt. “People like fire, Ichii! It’s pretty! But ‘rape’ means danger!”
“It’s-“ Ichigo recoiled his leg, and snapped it out against Isshin’s head. “-rape!”
The older man went flailing as he fell backwards from the hit, and disappeared from the then extremely amused white haired teen on his porch. What he wouldn’t have done to have Vergil’s [faggy] camcorder, right then. See, he normally missed that sort of thing, what with sneaking out of the house on weekdays, and sleeping in until two or three in the afternoon on weekends. He knew it happened, because God knew others were eager to talk about the morning ritual of the Kurosakis (because they were Asian, and therefore, obviously, fascinating) whenever they saw him.
But then, he was getting to see it in all its firsthand glory. It was, indeed, going to be a good summer, wasn’t it?
Well, he thought so, until his [faggy] brother showed up at the front door, announcing, monotone and darkly (like the faggy goth wanna-be he was, Dante insisted), “Mom’s making dad have a neighborhood barbeque tomorrow.”
Yeah. That wasn’t so good, considering the last time they had one, they ended up moving across the country to avoid the aftershock.
Edit: And this time, in appropriate coding flavor.