/ tw - swearing, mentions of abuse, very mild violence

jungle juice. what a strange phrase for some over-glorified water. at least, that was the opinion that brad held. he didn’t quite understand the relevance of the initiation ceremony, but had been urged to complete it by his new crewmates. why get wasted by some juice when drugs and shit existed? it was odd, but a low lying desire to fit in urged him to complete the ceremony.

eventually caving into the pressure of his peers, the large canine now found himself standing before the pensive with a plain expression. well, it was now or never. he used his paw to scoop the elixir into the provided glass and stared at it with hesitant chestnut optics. “one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready and four to go..”, he muttered to himself as he took a righteous swig from the glass. shaking his furry head at the bitter taste, brad opened his eyes and realized it was over. now, all he had to do was chill on a island all alone for the night. easy, right?

the leonberger padded across the wooden bridge onto the lonely island, mildly excited for some peace and quiet. brad certainly enjoyed company, just not twenty-four seven. there was nothing wrong with craving a little solitude every once in a while. the young male eventually found a peaceful spot by the water where he took a curt seat in the warm sand. “now, this is decent...oh, fuck!”, he said, grabbing his head in pain as the world suddenly grew dizzy and blurred. he felt like he was on a whole new plane of shit-faced. what the fuck was that? it couldn’t of been from that juice shit, as pincher had repeatedly explained that it (unfortunately) had no alcoholic content. bamboozled, the canine stood up and shook the sand from his long coat.

when he reopened his eyes, a figure stood before him that was painfully familiar. jaw agape, brad shook his head in disbelief. no, it couldn’t be him. it was impossible! terrible flashbacks of his childhood flashed through his mind. the abuse, the starvation, the pain. everything he put behind him to come here was standing right there before him. he had been reassured that no trespassers made it into the typhoon, especially this far back in the territory. legs quivering ever so slightly with angst as he stood frozen, brad eventually spoke. “d-dad? what..what the shit are you doing here?”, his voice a shocked cocktail of fear, anger and pure adrenaline.

the larger leonberger chuckled into the sunlight with a crooked grin. he had a large healed scar across his face like a comic villain, and had a few missing teeth. reflecting on it, brad had never been sure where he acquired his good looks. his father’s fur was mangy and tangled, unlike his own well-groomed coat. overall, he wasn’t a pretty sight. “fuckin’ dumbass, you really thought you could pull that kinda shit?”, the older male said with a low growl rising from the back of his throat. trying to hide his own fear, brad’s eyes traveled everywhere except his father’s steely gaze, as if searching for an answer in the humid, tropical air. “i..i..i got los- y’know what, nevermind. yeah, i did think i could- and i-i.. i’m gonna”, brad said eventually, his tone shifting to match his father’s. he ran away to escape the dirtbag, why stop while he was ahead? besides, he couldn’t imagine what he’d have to endure if he returned to the nomad life with his father. “really, brad? really?”, his father spat, stepping closer to the younger canine with each word, then adding, “you’re gonna regret that shit, kiddo. where’s your gratitude? i give you a great life, and you run your sorry ass away and try to get mad at me? i raised you- and here i am tryin’ to help you! you really are just a stupid fucker, aren’t you? i always knew i shoulda just left ya somewhere, you worthless shitbag. waste of my time, that’s what you are-”.

brad couldn’t listen to another bitter word from the male’s maw. his violent temper blinded him, and throw the young male into a uncontrolled rage. lunging toward the larger figure, the rugged dog attempted to pin his father to the sandy ground. “shut up! just shut the hell up!”, he barked, brown eyes brimming with tears of anger. it wasn’t the content of his father’s drunken monologue that angered brad, it was simply the final straw. if he wanted his father gone from his life- he would have to take him out personally.

it wasn’t difficult. a lifetime of being surrounded by violence was always efficient for raising a strong fighter. it only took a bit of rustling before brad delivered the final blow to the throat. he opened his eyes, ready to see his demons finally defeated. instead, he found himself alone on the beach where he had once stood, though it was morning now. the faint sound of his walkman still rung in the background, playing ‘take on me’ for an inattentive audience. where was his father, what had happened? brad looked down at his paws to see no blood, and the land showed no sign of destruction. the only destruction brooded within his mind, baffled at what had happened. was it the jungle juice that did that? after all, he did overhear some say it caused hallucinations and shit. did pincher and his so called friends think it was funny to make him go through that? they made this ceremony sound like a walk in the park. the male was proud of what he had done, as dark as it seemed, but would of preferred to ultimately avoid the whole snafu.

pissed, the rugged canine stormed back towards the main camp with a brutish expression plastering his masculine features. “pincher! where the fuck are you?”, he spat as he drew closer, his voice as deep as he could get it at his age. his features drawn up in a twisted grimace, the chocolate-colored male looked around for anyone he could let his anger out on. “jungle juice can eat my ass! what the fresh hell is that shit all about?”, he muttered under his huffy breath, waiting for a remark from one of his crewmates.

// tldr ; brad drank the jungle juice and hallucinated his abusive father ,, killed the vision of him and is now a whole phat mess of emotions !

actions "speech"