somethingwithturquoise | MHA #4; Friday Evening [01/20].

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MHA #4; Friday Evening [01/20].

There were a lot of things that led Summer to having the feeling that Annie had been kind of going through some stuff lately. She could probably say that for a couple people, actually, but, when it came to Annie, she liked to think that if something was up, she would let Summer know. That she knew she could come to Summer to talk about whatever, and that Summer would try not to be too judgy, or, if she was, that she would do so in a very loving way. So it was kind of a relief, almost, when sangria did come up at the bar on Wednesday.

Like, she knew it probably wasn't good, if they were sangria'ing over it, but it was good that Annie wanted to talk about it.

So, for the occasion, she actually made not just one but but TWO different sangrias (and fully intended, by the end of the night, to just say fuck it and mix them both together), as well as a little spiced sangria with rum for the squirrels to have their own little sangria moments and forget all about her and Annie's.

And then she just needed an Annie, because otherwise that was a lot of sangria going to waste.

[[ for the super bestie! Sangria night itself is fine for broadcast, but all sangria details are NFB sangria secrets~ ]]

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"But he's your grandfather," Annie pointed out, aware that this was exactly the sort of impulse getting her in trouble. "And your mom's dad. I mean, what if the one time he taps you and he actually does need your help, you say no? I'd feel so bad in that case, if it was me."

A pause to sip, and she added, "Besides, he's like a multiverse champ, right? You say no, you're probably just gonna end up with an Alternate Universe Grampa Rick fucking your day up in retaliation, right?"

Which sucked in its own right, really.

"He already is another Alternate Universe Grampa Rick fucking up my day," Summer pointed out, trying to remember if she ever even told Annie about this. "He's not even my real grampa. My real grampa is dead and buried in our backyard. There's a good chance that my current Grampa Rick actually killed him to take his place. The only reason I even know that, too, is because my brother....who is also not my actual Morty, my actual Morty is also buried in that same shallow grave...told me about when I got my first real taste of the multiverse and handled it so badly, I wanted to run away to the southwest and, I don't know, do something with turquoise."

Eyyyyy, never pass up a chance for a username drop, folks!

Summer, who at this point, was gesticulating a lot throughout all of that and making the reason for the color of her couch very clear, took a sip before it was too late.

"But you're right," she said, with an air of conclusion, "he is still my grandfather, even if he's not my real grandfather, he's still a version of him, and if he did sincerely come to me for help, then, yes, I'd still probably help him. Do you think that makes me an idiot?"

"I don't think I knew that," Annie noted, looking fairly horrified -- though, weirdly enough, she also had some very recent experience dealing with dead bodies and the replacement of oneself in another universe, too, and she couldn't help but think of Stephen. "I mean -- first of all, no, of course you're not an idiot. But holy shit, Summer. Is it like...can you tell that's not your Morty?"

How awful to think that you could just step into the life of another version of you. What was the point of anything, really, if it was like that?

Summer shrugged a little bit, a stiffer shrug than she might have had otherwise "That's just the thing," she said, looking down into her glass a moment, noticing how the bottom of her vision was a little blurry, before she looked back over at Annie and shook her head. "Not really. And I don't know if that's just because the difference is so negligible, or if it's just because it doesn't matter because he's the Morty I've got now, or both, or what, but it sure as hell put a lot of things into perspective for me, and started getting me to realize that if I did say no? It's not so much about another Alternate Reality Rick showing up to fuck up my day, it's more about the fact that he can just get another Alternate Reality Summer to fuck up instead."

She took a drink.

"Or just replace me with a robot again."

Another drink.

"Or just make a clone of me like he did my mom."

Another.

"Or just decide he never needed me in the first place. There's just as many Ricks out there without a Summer as there are Ricks with one. So, ultimately, it doesn't matter whether I say yes or I say no, because he can always just find a Summer who will say yes. So at least I know if I do say yes, then I at least get to be the Summer that matters."

And, with that, Summer was definitely ready for a refill.

"I think," she added, as she poured, "that's straying a little off the topic, though. If I'm not an idiot for not saying no, then you're definitely not one, either."

"The topic is allowed to stray," Annie decided, definitely starting to feel her own sangria by now. And she didn't need to be drunk to be affectionate or sincere with Summer, but it did loosen the floodgates a bit and allow, "And you're always the Summer who matters. Always."

But -- Annie also knew very well that people not taking her advice was a sore point with Summer, and she got that, so she also gave her a firm (as firm as she could) nod in agreement. "So maybe neither of us is an idiot. Maybe just people suck and it's a matter of...looking out for that suckiness. No matter how sad it is they want to get down with their nemesis or that they lost their kids across the universe, or whatever."

Just, like. A random example.

Oh, yeah, so totally random. And not at all something Summer, after giving maybe a skeptical sort of expression at the whole always matters thing, because, well, she liked to think that at least a few more people would notice if she got replaced by a robot again this time around, but, like, being replaced by a robot and really only having two or three people even really notice stuck with a person, was taking note of, really!

"People lose kids across the universe," give or take! She was using the term very metaphorically and specifically!, "all the time, but it takes a special kind of asshole to make it other people's problems."

She huffed, slightly, because all of this really was starting to blur a little with her own hang-ups, and she felt like that was blinding her a little to the details of Annie's particular case.

"It really sucks," she said, measured and slow, looking down into her cup to focus better, "that this Bob character took advantage of you like that, Annie. And if I ever see this Bob," who she was definitely going to start trying to figure out who it was when the make sure Annie is okay part of all this was taken care, and she looked over at Annie now as if to check if she was still doing okay, "it's going to be real hard to not just want to punch her right in the face. And it sucks that there are so many people out there who see you and your kindness and see it as something that can be used and manipulated, and I want to punch all them in the face, too. Or at least," she sent a faint grin over, since she had receipts to back this one up, "troll them mercilessly on the internet. But I love that you're so kind and such a good person, Annie, and I love you, and you're one of the strongest people I know. The fact that you've been through as much shit as you have and you still care and you still want to help people, who so don't even deserve even a fraction of your kindness? That's really admirable. I know it probably feels like weakness right now, but it really isn't."

If Summer was replaced by a robot, or a clone, or anything other than her perfect, current self -- Annie really thought she would notice. The pizza discussion had twigged her radar as it was! (And if nothing else, Annie was pretty fucking good at dispatching robots, it turned out, so she was also useful there.)

Annie was mostly considering her glass as Summer spoke, maybe blinking away the occasional bleariness, but it was obvious the words were having an impact.

"If it helps," she offered after a moment of quiet, "someone already punched her in the face. The kid she wanted to sacrifice, actually."

And it had broken Annie's mind control, on top of being incredibly fucking satisfying.

"But I know you're right, and I don't think -- like, I don't think I could even be less like that if I tried," she noted, snorting out a little laugh. "I mean, I can keep my eyes open and I can be a little less dumb about trusting people at their word, and I went and got my ass a Supe-friendly therapist for exactly that, 'cause like...I know this is bred into me, and there's a better way, I'm sure of it."

Because yeah, there was a difference between helping people and allowing yourself to be repeatedly bamboozled by, say, a guy who thought a sad story about Pizza Rolls made a compelling argument for drug abuse and the murder of dozens of innocents.

"But like, that's what I love about you," she noted, wide-eyed and gesticulating a bit herself now. "You don't take people's shit! You call people out on being, like, 'nice guys' or assholes or selfish or whatever! And it's fucking amazing."

And Summer couldn't really help a small, faintly proud grin at that praise. She even almost wanted to argue that it wasn't really that awesome, that most people probably thought she was kind of a bitch, but...

It was pretty awesome, wasn't it?

So she was just going to take thay, thank you, and revel in it and preen a little bit before snorting.

"I guess," she groused, "I can't feel too bad about not getting to do the punching if it was the kid she was sacrificing who got to do it. Like, Jesus Christ, who even does that?"

*cough*Ricks*cough*

The level of people here who gave her certain gross Rick vibes lately was too damn high.

"I'm glad you found a good therapist, though," she said. "Sangria nights are awesome and needed, but they are ko substitution for proper mental health care. Dr. Wong has literally changed my life. Maybe 'Bo~o~ob' should have tried a licenced professional over manipulating people and sacrificing other people's children, too, you know?"

And here she thought turning yourself into a pickle to avoid proper therapy had been extreme....yeesh.

Edited 2023-01-20 21:37 (UTC)

"It's kinda funny -- my recommendation came from a guy named Wong, too. But he's the Sorcerer Supreme," Annie told her, actually giving Sorcerer Supreme the little verbal flourish she thought it deserved and managing a giggle. "I met him while working on all of this. Magic bullshit is really hard to fight, by the way, in case you were wondering -- like, I will take alllllllll the superpowered prehensile dicks in the multiverse over fighting a wizard again, Jesus."

The glowy, flying lady had been no treat, either, but Strange had been kind of awful to deal with. Especially since --

"Correction," Annie noted, swallowing some sangria. "Zombie wizard. But yeah, you're right -- ol' Bob should have probably looked for a good someone to talk to before...any of this."

The thing was, she had, of course. But the Darkhold made a fucking bad therapist.

That's where the licensed professional part made a pretty big difference, tbh.

"Ohmygooooood, Annie!" said Summer, snorting just a little as, oh, look at that, another refill! And she held out the pitcher to Annie to see if she was in need of more, too. "Phrasing! You are a married woman now!"

But thank you for that, actually. Summer really appreciated conversations that could go from sacrificing children to her bestie taking on all the superpowered prehensile dicks in the multiverse in two-point-five seconds.

Then her nose wrinkled. "Why does zombie wizard actually make it sound that much more worse? Like, wizard didn't make you feel special enough, we gotta go and be undead, too? C'mon."

Then she sighed a little, looking over at Annie with a faint smile. "I'm glad you're okay, though," she added. "I mean, mostly, besides the trauma. I swear, girl, you're like a cockroach, you can survive anything this bullshit multiverse tries to throw at you. And look totally hot doing it."

She made a muffled sound as another thought hit her with her next drink.

"Not to say," she added quickly, wiping her mouth a little from the sangria that tried to escape before she gulped it down, "that cockroaches are hot. Two separate thoughts, there."

Edited 2023-01-20 22:04 (UTC)

"I am hot, cockroaches are not," Annie agreed, happily having taken that refill, thank you! "The zombie wizard thing is 'cause in that universe, you can, like, jump into the head of yourself there through a dream. So like -- instead of like, knowing about other Summers, you could just go to sleep and possess another Summer from over here, with the right tools. And anyway this dude was dead in this world."

Made sense, right? Totally.

"Also!" Annie added, feeling a whole lot better -- one part bestie-talk power-ups, one part being hungover tomorrow. "I'll have you know Diego has met the prehensile dick twice. I've only met that guy once! And with my husband!"

Fiancé at the time, whatever.

"Terrible superpower, though," she murmured, saying it half into her glass. "Just terrible."

It made enough sense. Summer was honestly mostly just stuck on the thought of other Summers jumping into her head, which, like, dealing with those bitches in their own bodies was bad enough as it was, or temporarily being one for a weekend, fine, but sharing a body with more than one of herself?

PASS.

It didn't help that most Summers tried to kill each other, and that just seemed like a recipe for a straight up aneurism.

"Well, I don't know about that," said Summer. "There are definitely a lot worse superpowers, and I think....wait, no. It depends. Did he have, like, full control over it? Or was it like a thing where it pretty much had a mind of its own? Because one of those could be potentially awesome, and the other is an actual literal nightmare. It's one of those things, too, where it's like, okay, yes, terrible compared to being able to, like, control electricity or fly or be invisible, but, the real question is: is a superpower dick still better than no superpower at all?"

"I think he could control it," Annie said, and congrats, Summer, she was drunk enough that you were getting a whole, like, demonstration of how the dick moved using her arm. "Like an elephant's trunk. And also maybe he can see through it?"

That, right there, was an actual nightmare. Imagine being able to see with one's genitals.

"I met him at the orgy over the summer, before I quit." OBVIOUSLY. "And I dunno, Summer. I kinda feel like no superpowers is better than having a dick that can grab people."

"Yeah, I don't know," Summer had to admit, "but, like, this is coming from the perspective of someone who doesn't have superpowers, soooo.....

"Also," she added, "if I had a massive prehensile dick that I could control and possibly be able to see out of? Like, I'd be a shoe-in for some major advancements in gynecological studies."

And therein was the difference, between Summer Smith and...that guy. Because she would absolutely be using her prehensile dick for good and not...

Okay, she probably would grab people with it, too, but, like, only if they were into that.

Edited 2023-01-20 22:38 (UTC)

"Don't limit yourself -- you'd probably make great strides in, like, throat cancer research, too."

Yeah, Annie was officially drunk.

"But look at that," Annie noted, all fond and headtilty at Summer. "Look at you, finding a way to use the dick powers for good. Next you'll come up with a plan for the guy with the acid vomit."

Maybe he had the worst superpowers, actually.

Oh, man. Summer loved drunk Annie, and a hand actually made it to her chest as she looked fondly back at her in deep appreciation, not only for the expansion of her grand vision for the good she'd do with her giant prehensile penis, but also the fact that they had clearly come so far in just one conversation as a whole.

But you needed the disgusting anatomy moment, the lol paint moments, the turning into a pickle moments. Because otherwise you'd go fucking insane.

"Acid vomit, huh?" she said. "That one does seem a little trickier to sell...but for some reason, my mind keeps going to, like, demolition? Or, like, strategic construction. Like, I don't know, this is me assuming it's corrosive enough to melt through, like, fucking I-beams and shit. If it's just, like, bleeeegh," yes, she needed to act out the gagging and puking all over something, "oops, burned your skin a bit, that is a pretty lame super power, but if it's all bleeeegh, oh, look at that, it's eating away flesh and bone, this could actually be a really interesting solution for waste removal, or something!"

"I think he could melt through flesh and bone," Annie said thoughtfully -- or as thoughtfully as one could when definitely being as inebriated as she. "Diego saw him firsthand. I was outside dealing with my asshole friend Hughie."

And with that helpful bit of information, Annie tapped her nose, then pointed at Summer, as though conveying something important. "He's one of the reasons I'm in therapy! He's not, like, Bob, but there's a great example of someone I never should've trusted but did because I'm dumb and nice and believe people about sad things."

"I mean," said Summer, frowning a little at how she thought she'd used the big pitchers for this tonight, but apparently not!, if the one she had was almost already empty!, "the guy's name is Hughie, even I already feel bad for him."

"Right?" Annie agreed, idly munching on a little chunk of apple. "Like, of all the red flags, that right there. Note to self: be suspicious of guys named Hughie."

Which was not going to help her with the Wanda problem, but honestly -- it was so much more common that some nice-guy asshole got in Annie's way than for one of her actual friends to go through something horrific and take Annie down with her, really.

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MHA #4; Friday Evening [01/20].

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