Katanas and Turntables
Dirk Strider was absorbed in the beat of the music. Completely focused on the way the turntables felt under his hands. Utterly concentrated on the rise and fall of the melody and bass that were simultaneously reaching his ears (through MLP headphones).
"Hey asshat, for the millionth time, I brought you a drink."
Dirk looked up just in time to catch the can that his brother, Dave, threw at him. He caught it one-handed while pausing the track he was working on with the other.
"My knight in shining armour." Dirk said in way of thanks, a hint of sarcasm in his voice but a smile on his face.
"Anything for the prince." Dave mocked.
"Prince?" Dirk paused while removing his headphones.
"Yeah, the dickprince." grinned Dave.
"Dude is this about the smuppet ambush the other day? Look I said I'm sorry, plus it was Bro's idea anyway." Dirk explained.
"Just because me and D kicked your asses in a strife last week..." muttered Dave.
To someone outside of the household, this almost constant battle for one-upmanship wouldn't exactly be a recipe for a good family relationship. But that's simply how the four brothers (Dirk, Dave, Bro and D) worked. Besides, it wasn't always strifes and payback, there was actually a lot more to the Strider story than many people knew.
~
Strider had not always been the surname of the four boys. They had actually been born and raised as Lalondes. D had been born first, followed by Bro. Roxy and Dirk and Rose and Dave had been born as two sets of twins.
However, none of their childhoods had been happy. Their mother loved them dearly but their father had never wanted to have children and so never gave a fuck. He'd always left the state for work for months at a time and every time he'd returned, finding out another child or two had come along chipped away at his tolerance.
Dave and Rose being born had been the final straw and something just snapped. Their father still stayed away from home for long periods of time but during the small amounts of time he was actually present, he treated the children- his /own/ children- with nothing but cruelty.
At first it was just little things: little comments about their vivid eye colors (dark red, gold, amber, pink, candy red and purple) and how that made them 'mutants' or freaks'. Or refusing to refer to them or address them by their names, only ever 'kid' (or 'brat' when he was angry).
Mom picked up on this pretty quickly and told their father time and time again not to call their children that. She always had to assure her sons and daughters that their eyes were beautiful like gemstones and to not listen to the mean things their father said.
In time, the parents began to argue more and more frequently, the father often hitting the mother, and any children who got involved.
By the time Dave and Rose were eight years old, their mother had a serious drinking problem and it was terrifying every time their father came home. Especially for D. No way was he going to let any of his brothers or sisters get hurt by their father's hand.
In fact, calling him a father was wrong. He was a sperm donor at most. Their mother was the real parent and the only parent they ever needed. And D would protect her too.
With the help of her oldest boys, Mom Lalonde was eventually able to get help with her alcohol addiction which meant she was able to be the amazing mother her children knew her to be once more and also focus back on her science research to provide for her family.
The road was long and sometimes it was difficult, but all of Mom Lalonde's children were what kept her fighting. The next time their good for nothing father showed up, she'd been completely sober for just over 6 months and was getting better all the time.
She told her husband it was over. That he wasn't going to hurt her children anymore. She told him not to bother unpacking his suitcase and to get out.
He replied that he was glad to be shot of her and her six burdens (she'd smacked him across the face for that. How DARE he call her children that!!!) but he was taking back the house HE'D bought at the start of their marriage.
And so the long, complicated divorce process began. Bro and D would never forget the day they took Mom aside and offered to move out with Dirk and Dave to ease Mom's handful while the divorce was going on. Mom had been reluctant to have any of her babies fly the nest, but she agreed because she knew that Dirk and Dave would be in good hands with their big brothers.
The boys had moved out to an apartment in Maple Valley but the girls ended up moving to Maple Valley as well, Mom using her considerable funding to buy a mansion in the outskirts of the suburb. It was a 30 minute drive from the apartment to the mansion.
For legal reasons, the boys also ended up changing their surnames to Strider when Bro and D were given legal custody of Dirk and Dave.
And so that's how things continued right up until Dirk and Roxy were 17 and Dave and Rose were 16. All four were coming to the end of successful careers at Sburb Academy and preparing to move on to Skaia Tech for even brighter futures.
Mom could not have been prouder.
~
An hour after Dave had first brought Dirk the drink, Bro silently observed them mixing music together on the turntables. He'd often do this and every time he would be reminded of the young children with big red/amber eyes that would watch with admiration as he and D taught them the basics of swordplay or music mixing. A small smile involuntarily crossed his lips as he remembered little Dirk and Dave.
A tap on his should jerked him from his reverie and he turned to see D. He was almost the opposite of Bro (slim and wearing rounded aviators and not spiking his hair with gel) and nearly the (taller) mirror image of Dave.
"Sup?" asked Bro, frowning at D's serious expression.
"...Mom called." murmured D, his voice low and serious.
"Momma? What's wrong? Is she alright? Are Rox and Rose ok too?" growled Bro, becoming worried.
"They're all fine, don't worry." D's tone softened a little. His brother was such a sentimental dork at times. "But...he turned up on Mom's doorstep."
"...He?" Bro said slowly, dreading what that might mean.
"The donor." D confirmed Bro's fears with a grave nod.
"WHAT?! How the fuckin hell did he find Momma? If he so much as touches her I'll-" Bro snarled.
"Bro." D placed his hands on Bro's broad shoulders. Christ, the guy was built like a brick house "Calm down. We're going over there, ok?"
"Damn fuckin straight we're goin over there. And I'm takin my katana with me." muttered Bro.
Neither guardian realised that the teenagers had overheard the conversation and started to feel just as fired up as Bro did. They exchanged the briefest glance then collected their own swords and met their brothers at the door to Dirk's room.
"What does that bastard want with Mom." asked Dirk, his katana slung over his shoulder.
"D? Can you explain?" Dave looked at his older look alike.
D took a deep breath before saying "...Mom told me that that motherfucker wants money because of the divorce. $5000."
Bro completely lost his shit.
"That SON OF A BITCH! That's it!" he roared. When he got angry, his voice lost the southern accent he put on and went straight back to his New York roots. And he was furious right now. He shoved past D, vaulted over the futon and grabbed a pair of katanas.
He passed one of them to D and growled at Dave and Dirk "To the car."
As the four of them ran down the stairs to the lobby of their apartment block, adrenaline pumping and their minds ready for a fight, each of them made a vow that the others heard.
"If he touches Rose..." hissed Dave.
"If he touches Roxy..." snarled Dirk.
"If he touches Mom..." growled Bro.
D waited until they had all piled into the car and shut the doors to make his vow.
"If he touches any of you, I'll rip him apart myself."
His voice was not a growl, a snarl or a hiss. It was a emotionless tone of ice cold fury.
No one hurt his family.