Chapter Text
|| Polaroids and Patchwork ||
“You’re kidding,” Macaque leaned against the wall of the convenience store, his flip phone held away from his ears as he was getting frustrated, but his six ears fluttered to hear every word from the other side. The dim light of the summer sun hiding away was drowned out by the buzz of artificial light above his head. He could hear not only how each bug hit against the bulbs, but how the teenagers at the gas bar 20 metres away were flipping bills as they counted to pay up. He could hear the chainsmokers around the corner sputtering on their habits, and hear how the tires of a passing rustbox would roll down the road. Everything was so loud. The phone would crackle cheaply, but Macaque heard through it the words he’d just heard a moment ago. Rumble would sigh longly,
“We said; we’re disbanding,” Macaque knew that was not what he’d heard, and he could hear his other cousin, Savage, grab the phone hurriedly to correct Rumble. The two were joined by the tails, and in human disguises, they were joined at the hip, one with each other.
“Well moreso; we’re moving away and also getting you out of the band, but we’re still going to be playing music, so we’re technically kicking you out. No offence, Macaque,” Savage’s voice grained against Macaque’s head, like sandpaper to his skull just rattling every part of him.
“What do you mean you’re kicking me out? Guys, I’m literally a core member,” even as the chainsmokers would turn towards Macaque as his voice raised, the shadow simian didn’t back down, holding his groceries tight in hand, phone gripped in the other palm, almost breaking in half. Savage rolled his eyes, Macaque could tell just from the long sigh escaping his lips on the other side of the telephone.
“It’s not like we don’t like you in the band, we just don’t need you as a guitar player anymore,” Savage said, a matter of fact tone like a kick in the shin. Macaque felt his disguise falter, his tail lashing left and right in his shadows. The open sign of the convenience store flickered colourful lights over his face, illuminating his anger and his inhuman features.
“I’m your cousin, doesn’t that mean something?” Macaque grunted, strongly pushing himself away from the store wall to wander off down the street in quick uneasy steps. A car alarm rang in the distance, hurting his sensitive ears, a dog howling in distaste of another dog’s barking awakening more in the small neighbourhood. The shadow puppeteer scoffed, “I wanted to build this with you guys, and just because you can do it with two, you don’t want to stardom with me?”
“You’re our older cousin, Macaque, and you’ve got other stuff to do. It’s what we want to do, which is to move to the big city to explore the world and do gigs, something you don’t have enough money for without it being a burden on us,” Savage continued to speak over this calmly, which only grinded Macaque’s gears more. He did know they were right in their wanting to split off from him, it still stung however as he thought about it. Macaque continued walking down the city street past each lantern, grumbling a little until he could cool off.
“Auntie knows you’re working really hard to build your own dream Macaque, but we got different dreams, and that’s okay,” Rumble’s voice was distant in the call, but Savage hummed in agreement much closer to the speaker. Macaque let out a knowing mutter.
“Yeah, sure. My only deal is I get my shirt back from Rumble,” Macaque smirked through his words, a smug tone escaping him, then a loud laugh as the defence system for why Rumble deserved it more was important.
Macaque wasn’t too fond of that shirt, he just wanted them to laugh for a moment.
The next morning, Macaque packed his things out of his room at his found family’s house, seeing as he had lived on their couch for almost a year now for this band. Knowing it was all over with the band, he’d rather not burden his Aunt of sorts any longer. It wasn’t hard to pack up his minimal belongings, and it was easy to say goodbye. The pictures were what Macaque cared most about, taking a lot of photos with him from previous holidays and concerts, and taking a goodbye photo with a polaroid camera. He shook them till he could see the images, admiring his photography skills until he ran out of film. The last photo he took was a dorky photo of him holding the camera high over his head to get his cousins in frame with his superior height.
“So where are you going now Macaque? Did you get a new home? Hey, are you going to still cook for us every now and then?” The questions were constant from his Aunt’s biological Daughter, who was only 6, but well spoken in ways nobody understood. She had black hair that looked similar enough to Macaque’s human disguise, that it could be passed off as an actual cousin relationship. He smiled at the young girl.
“You don’t worry, Bai He, I’m just going to the next few towns over. When your Dad gets his car together, you won’t even be that far from me! Just thirty minutes,” Macaque soothed the girl’s worries somewhat, but it wasn’t too successful. He watched as she pouted, holding the family cat close even as it wrangled for freedom. Macaque sighed, “Remember to make lots and lots of paper lanterns, that way, the art you make will fly everywhere, right?”
Bai He seemed somewhat satisfied with that answer, a determined nod from her and a genuine smile giving Macaque that relief that this girl would be fine without him. As he left with a click of the front door now, little hugs and waves sprinkled throughout, he began walking with his bag slung over his shoulder. Down from those creaking patio steps to the dew drops on the grass. His worn out shoes would squeal with the dampness, and as the wind blowed with grey clouds above, Macaque would sigh defeatedly.
Megapolis was a 30 minute drive. It was a very, very long walk. Macaque didn’t worry about walking usually, but without previous teleportation knowledge to the city, it was safest not to risk going into a random portal, and to instead, do what humans do and walk normally. The highway was the more direct and simple way to the city, so he walked on the side, just far enough from the ditch. Cars from all around the world passed, with unique attributes. Each and every car that drove by was different, of course, with varying amounts of noise and force against Macaque’s sensitive hearing. Macaque didn’t see the same car twice really, so eventually, it became a game for him to count how many cars of a certain colour would drive by in a minute. It kept it somewhat exciting as he walked on the edge of a busy highway and watched his life being threatened by every speeding car or semi truck, while also trying to make sure he was going the right way. The signs on the side of the road were interesting sometimes too, trying to estimate how long it would take for Macaque to get to the next sign, or to watch the numbers go down for how long it was until he’d get to Megapolis.
Overall it was a slog to walk however; each step would be surpassed by one wheel of a car, and it felt like Macaque was going nowhere. His black waved hair would flow in the wind, the medium length disguise tangling. His clothing wasn’t great either, patched together with his sewing skills comparable to a child and sheer refusal to buy anything new. His pants were baggy and dragged the ashy layers of asphalt with him, gravel sticking to the jean material, then for any patches soaking in as mud or flying away. His shirt was already yellowed with age, stained with cola and ripped with carelessness, but the jumper he wore was his main concern. Macaque wasn’t an enjoyer of the cold, so the morning fog and light rain nipped through the fabric, and the wind would force his hood down every chance it got—with success every time.
It was a miserable time, Macaque’s dark brown eyes of his human disguise sagging with exhaustion, even as he saw the sign for 13 more kilometres to the next town over. He considered at some points to put a thumb up for a ride, though he never gave in out of fear of being murdered. To be fair it would probably be easier to murder him on the side of the road like roadkill, but it was nice to be paranoid sometimes. Home was too far to go back, and going this far was good enough. Macaque watched clouds fly by as the early morning tried to triumph against the warm sun that rose behind him, but it would be at least another hour before it was warm enough to stop shivering.
Another car drove by with a splash of water to his body of a car not pulling to the passing lane to save him the suffering of soaking clothes. A deep blue sedan car that looked otherwise black, covered in muck that was clearing up with the spray from the damp road. Macaque cringed, flicking water from his face. The wheels of the sedan were balding, the windows and mirrors cracked, and he couldn’t help but recognize that there were dints everywhere. Macaque wondered if it was road safe, but he didn’t have a license to be frank so who was he to judge?
So when he saw the same sedan at the side of the road with a very upset, well built man trying to fix a tire on the front drivers side, Macaque suppressed the urge to smirk at the karma. Upon walking to the car however, he recognized that this was not just one guy—but four total people. All four were in different states of grief, and as Macaque walked forwards, they all reached the ultimatum of failure.
“Azzie darling, did we not just pass this person?” A scraggy voice in the back of the car groaned, loud and disrespectful without a care for Macaques own feelings. A bump and a hurried shout of protest from this voice came to Macaque’s attention as the other half of this angry spirit, the cool headed one.
“Control yourself Pidge, we’ve been broken down for fifteen minutes, it makes sense,” The deep voice was tired, assertive, and yet relaxed all at the same time. The back tinted windows left Macaque curious, but he just quietly wandered over to the poor man with his muscled arms trying to adjust a tire past its lifetime. The man was trying not to get mud on his admittedly nice clothing, something Macaque could respect. He leaned down and sighed.
“Ay, you look like you need a hand,” Macaque managed, his trained hick voice catching the man’s attention, who shook his head quickly. He stood up tall, taller than Macaque by quite a bit, and pushed his blonde hair aside. It was admittedly rather well kept, which only made Macaque cringe with the realization he probably looked like a person with a shank and a need for drugs. Who knows what they thought was in his backpack…
“It is alright, we are just… a little stuck,” the gruff voice murmured, looking away as he scratched the back of his neck. Macaque couldn’t help his sarcastic nature, raising an eyebrow. His hick tone dropped quickly, maybe a bit too quick to be natural.
“Right, and the sun is purple. Listen dude, I worked in an auto body shop for a bit, your car is in need of help,” Macaque crossed his arms and tapped his foot now, his natural expression of smug cover up only making the poor man nervously chuckle. Macaque sighed, “does this bad boy still have the factory kit?” By the look on the muscle man’s face, the answer was ‘I don’t know,’ so Macaque shrugged. He wandered to the back of the car and put his hand by the dinted handle, looking at the rusted logo, “pop the boot, let me get a look.”
Click.
The sedan was packed with luggage. A guitar case with stickers faded and peeling, a sports bag, a speaker with the aux cord crushed under a box of drum pieces, and of Macaque’s sight, he could see the poor people sat in the back were rooming with backpacks and a pillowcase stuffed with socks for support. Macaque couldn’t help but sigh longly, knowing that he was going to have to take out a lot of this to even fathom finding the emergency tire and the tools that came with it, if this car even still had it. The bickering as background noise was something Macaque could compare to his cousins, with the voice of ‘Pidge’ and the tired one going on about how incompetent Macaque was being, though the tired one defending him, and the muscle man was discussing with the one he had yet to witness fully about being on time to their plans. Macaque didn’t listen too closely, so he pulled out the items and the luggage quietly, trying his best to protect it from dampness.
Macaque pulled on the carpet once there wasn’t much weight on the cover, peeking underneath to sigh with relief of the sight of a replacement tire and a neon orange jack. It was a wonder this car still had it. The rest of the haul to get the tire out was painful, given his arm strength after walking miles to get this far, but he eventually got everything he needed, pulling out the jack and making sure to put everything back into the boot to protect it. Kneeling down to the tire on the side where the cars sped by, he got mucked up and shivered as he undid bolts and jacked up the car, pulling at the tire and recognizing more issues.
The coils, the shocks, the axel, and god the mud flaps…
Macaque’s nose crinkled with distress as he quickly put the donut wheel on to ignore the painful sight of a car left for dead.
It took about ten minutes for the tire to be on fully, with the old tire leaned against the front of the car and essentially being worthless. Macaque had been sprayed with water enough times that he began to sneeze and sniffle, but ignorance to his health was a habit he wasn’t breaking today. Once he was done, he pulled out the jack and pushed the tire on the side of the road, recognizing he’d already closed the boot with all the luggage inside. The shadow monkey could not be bothered to try putting this old tire in, so he grumbled and set down the thin rubber on the rim till it was in the ditch.
“Alright, she can only drive at 60 at best, so be easy on the old girl,” Macaque muttered as he leaned on the passenger window, catching a glimpse of the passenger now, the sight of a lovely coiled redhead catching his attention. Now that he thought about it, this was a pretty diverse group of presumed men, only for it to be clear these were all different identities. The muscle man was tanned and had those stand out golden lockes, to which were fluffy and thick, eyes an unsure colour in almost any light from what Macaque could tell. The one he identified as Pidge from how many times the cool headed man in the back had scolded them was definitely a fluid gender of sorts, lean yet medium build with a painted makeup face with very sharp lines to compliment that irritated expressions to contest with a sour cat, sharp blue eyes, and bleached lavender hair. The cool headed one wore glasses, which Macaque could not tell whether or not decorative from the way he wore them halfway down his nose, but was similar with the dyed hair that was almost white with bleach before being a blue colour at the tips.
These were unusual, but it was interesting.
“Ah, thanks for the assistance,” the muscle man would smile genuinely with the underbite oddly complimenting his expression. Macaque only offered a respectful bow as he pulled away from the rolled down window, pulling himself back and pulling his backpack back onto his shoulders. He gave a little wave.
“It’s cool, you guys seem in a hurry so I won’t waste anymore time,” Macaque would offer his best grin, slicking back his messy and muddy black hair back with his fingers, pulling up his hood now as the sunrise had brought enough warmth to cool the wind. He was just about to continue walking to his destination, before a yell from that passenger came his way,
“Ay, your Glamour is coming off dude,” the voice was strong and confident, so when Macaque turned around to see it was the redhead, he awkwardly stared. The redhead continued though, leaning forwards and pulling on some red sunglasses, as dorky as it was to see. He leaned out the window, “you might want to hide the tail n eyes, the ears are neat though, like glow sticks!” Macaque had a face comparable to horror, and he couldn’t help but pick up on the stressed expressions of the rest of the car inhabitants. Macaque cleared his throat eventually to speak, but he didn’t find any words before the gingery face lit up with a grin, “Azure can we bring him with us? Dude is mega helpful, we might need him, please?”
Macaque felt like a cute puppy people wanted to coo over with how the pleas were phrased, but Macaque prayed for the answer to be yes as he fixed up his disguise, his tail melting back into the shadows, golden gaze returning to dark brown and of course, getting rid of his glow sticks…
So that was how Macaque found himself sat between the two men in the back on top of his bag, with nothing but a prayer to keep him from falling out of the car seat without a broken neck. This bet being on the side of the road though, minus the upset groaning and whining of ‘Pidge,’ who was actually named Peng sat on his left, while the well spoken glasses man, named ‘Tucker’ in place of Tusk (which was rather similar anyways), sat on his right with his large hands trying to solve a word search. Macaque would point out a word occasionally to Tusk, and tried his best to keep Peng happy with keeping quiet most of the ride. The muscle man was named Azure, both in his human disguise and as a lion demon, and was the only one in the car with a drivers license that wasn’t forged. The way the man drove was careful, but clumsy, something Macaque could understand with his nervous nature yet strong beliefs. Then for the ginger haired human, he was ‘King,’ or just Wukong. Macaque recognized the name from somewhere, but Wukong denied anything resembling him on the news as a menace.
He found that they were going to meet up with their friend and his girlfriend at Megapolis for gigs, but also because of their reputation at their previous town being compromised. Everyone in the car was a music artist somehow, but Macaque didn’t really piece together much besides Wukong being a singer from his screaming over the radio when a song he knew came on, much to the displeasure of Macaque’s ears and presumably Peng’s sanity, something they could relate to.
“What’s got you travelling on foot anyways? Demons usually stick together, so you walking alone ain’t usual,” Wukong mumbled as he leaned over the back of the car seat to look at Macaque, green eyes bright. Macaque shyly looked away and thought of how to reply, so he just smiled with a faint white lie between his lips,
“It’s nothing much, just changing up the way life rolls,” Macaque would shrug, to which he could see a smile raise in Azure’s face from the rear view mirror
“A noble cause. Maybe we’ll be together a bit longer than a car ride,” the blonde would nod towards Macaque in the mirror, shifting the gears of the car roughly. The shadowy simian would nod, laughing lightly as he pushed his hair backwards.
"I think I'd like that,"