Lashing out! ⚠️ Yelling and Grabbing Plumber's (Don't do that :o)
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The boardroom at WishUpon Studios buzzed with chatter. Papers were spread across the long table, digital screens flickering with charts and concept art. Bugs leaned back in his chair, tossing a carrot between his hands; Sonic was tapping his foot impatiently, and Jessica was elegantly sipping her coffee while reviewing some notes. Mario, ever patient, sat beside Felix, who was half-asleep but trying to look awake. Oswald had his ears folded back in mild annoyance at how long this meeting had gone on, and Pomni was nervously scribbling in her notepad. At the head of the table sat Mickey, arms crossed, eyes sharp and restless. He was supposed to be running this meeting smoothly, but he couldn’t focus while Mark wasn’t there. Everyone else had shown up on time, even Sonic, but Mark was still down in his lab. The longer Mickey waited, the more his irritation built, until finally he slammed his palm on the table.
“I’ll be right back,” Mickey muttered tightly, his tone leaving no room for questions. He stood up, buttoning his jacket, and stalked out of the room before anyone could say a word. Oswald groaned and leaned toward Mario. “Lemme guess he’s goin’ after Marquinhos again?” Mario sighed softly. “Mamma mia… probably.” Down in the lab, the hum of machinery filled the air. Sparks flew as Mark welded, a focused gleam in his dark green eyes. His tail flicked rhythmically as he concentrated, ears twitching every so often at the subtle whirring of fans. He wore his protective goggles, sleeves rolled up, small streaks of soot on his fur and he looked both exhausted and in his element. The sound of heavy footsteps made his ears perk. Before he could even turn around, Mickey’s voice cut through the hum. “Mark! The meeting started fifteen minutes ago!”
Mark flinched but didn’t look up. “I told ya earlier, I can’t leave this yet, Mick, I have to finish this,” he said, keeping his tone level. “This piece here? If I don’t finish the weld properly, it’ll be a fire hazard. I’ll join in when I can, I'm sorry but I told you I would be late.” But Mickey wasn’t in the mood to listen. His jaw tightened. “The others are waitin’. You can’t keep bailin’ on meetings just because you wanna play with your toys.” Mark’s ears flattened. His tail stopped moving. “It’s not a toy, Mickey. It’s part of the energy stabilizer for-” “Yeah, yeah, for whatever project you’ve been hidin’ away in here for weeks kitty cat,” Mickey interrupted sharply. He stepped closer, frustration flashing in his eyes. “You act like the whole place would burn down without you for ten minutes!” Mark turned to glare at him. “If you keep distractin’ me, it just might!”
That just made Mickey scowl harder. His hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out a cigar half-burned, still smoldering from earlier. Without thinking, he took a drag and exhaled the smoke directly toward Mark. Mark immediately coughed and turned his head away, ears folding back in irritation. “Mickey!” he hissed, voice rough. “You know I hate when you blow smoke at me!” “Yeah, I know,” Mickey said, smirking despite the tension. “Maybe it’ll get ya movin’.” That was the last straw. Mark’s grip slipped, and the heavy welding tool clattered down landing squarely on his foot. “OW!” Mark yelped, stumbling back and clutching his foot. The tool hit the floor with a clang, a faint scorch mark forming on the lab tiles. The smell of burnt metal filled the air as a small puff of smoke rose from the half-finished invention, the delicate structure cracking where the weld had stopped.
Mark just stood there, breathing hard, ears low, tail lashing. His fur bristled faintly in agitation. “...Perfect,” he muttered bitterly, looking at the ruined device. “Just perfect.” Mickey’s smirk vanished instantly. “Ah- Mark-” Mark held up a hand, voice low but cold. “Save it, Mick.” He sighed heavily, limping slightly as he took off his gloves and set them on the table. “Guess I’ll go to your meeting after all. No point finishin’ this now.” Mickey’s expression softened with guilt, but the damage was done. Back upstairs, when Mark entered the room, everyone looked up. Mario blinked. “Mark? You made it after all!” Mark forced a small smile, rubbing his neck. “Yeah… sorta had a change of plans.” He didn’t look at Mickey, who had quietly followed behind, visibly uncomfortable.
Jessica noticed the tension immediately, the faint soot stains on Mark’s fur, the singed smell, the stiff way Mickey avoided eye contact. She crossed her legs and raised a brow but said nothing. Sonic leaned over to Pomni and whispered, “Oof. Someone had a rough time in the lab.” Mark took a seat between Mario and Jessica, quietly setting down a notepad. He didn’t say much, only offered short responses when addressed. He mostly spoke to Mario, who tried to lighten the mood with small talk, and to Jessica, who gave him a knowing look but didn’t press. Oswald eyed the two from across the table, his gaze flicking between Mickey’s rigid posture and Mark’s silent simmering. He could tell something had gone down. By the time the meeting resumed, the room felt heavier. Mickey tried to focus, but his guilt gnawed at him. Every time he glanced at Mark, he noticed the faint way the feline flexed his foot, the smudge of soot on his cheek, the quiet way he avoided his gaze.
Mark didn’t glare, didn’t snap, didn’t even sigh but that calm silence said more than anger ever could. The boardroom was tense, papers shuffled nervously, and the hum of the ventilation system filled the pauses between voices. Mickey sat stiffly at the head of the table, arms crossed, cigar smoldering lightly in one hand. Mario and Sonic tried to follow along with the reports, Pomni scribbled notes meticulously trying to keep up with everything, Jesscia kept glancing between everyone nervously, and Oswald sat back, ears flat, silently observing the tension. Dandy cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses as he pushed a report toward the center of the table. “I wanted to bring up something serious: The Blot,” he began, voice unusually solemn. “Recent reports indicate there’s been an increase in those infected. The situation is worsening.” A heavy silence fell over the room. Even Sonic’s foot-tapping slowed. Mario’s eyes darkened as he processed the news.
Mark, sitting with his tail curling tightly around his chair leg, suddenly spoke up. His tone was sharper than usual. “And what exactly are you and Dyle doing to help with this?” His dark green eyes were hard, but the underlying tremor in his voice betrayed something more than anger. Dandy blinked, flustered. “I-I’ve been coordinating with a full team of researchers… but progress is… slow. It’s not easy.” Mark slammed a clawed hand lightly on the table, the sound echoing sharply through the room. “Slow? You have a full team! Researchers, assistants, supplies! This doesn’t look like slow progress, it looks like you’re not even trying!” Mario shifted uncomfortably in his seat, knowing exactly why Mark was so agitated. He kept his voice calm, trying to diffuse the tension. “Marquinhos, breathe… I understand why you’re frustrated, but-” “I’m sorry but I don’t care! Dandy all your focusing on numbers and protocols while people are suffering!” Mark snapped, standing and letting his tail lash behind him. His fur bristled, a clear sign that his temper and fear were spiraling together. “Honestly I care! You don’t know what it’s like watching someone… anyone… suffer and not be able to help them fully… even if there is someone close to you…”
Oswald remained emotionless but he knew what Mark was trying to say if it wasn’t clear. Dandy’s face went pale, but he raised a hand defensively. “Mark, I am trying! We’re doing everything we can-” “You’re not!” Mark barked, claws out, tail lashing. His chest heaved as his dark green eyes burned into Dandy. “I know you have a team! I know what resources you have! And yet all I see is excuses! There’s people I care about, dying slowly… and you’re giving me… just words instead of results…” For a moment, the room was frozen. Everyone was silent, unsure how to react to the raw, open anger Mark was displaying. They had never seen this side of him. Not like this. Not so exposed. His claws retracted slightly, but his voice retained the edge of anguish. Mario shifted again, gently resting a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. I understand, Mark. Really, I do… but maybe step out for a bit. Calm down. I’m sure Dandy didn’t mean-”
Mark shook him off roughly, dark green eyes narrowing. “No. I can’t. I’m sorry we have the best resources going to Dandy and Dyle for medical resources…there are people out there suffering because of this disease, I know I haven’t shown exact care for this topic but I feel like we can do more than just testing people…” “Marq…” Dandy’s flowers slightly drooped as he understood his words. “I see where you’re coming from but at this time… that’s everything we can do as of now…” “Right… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to talk like that Dandy… I think I need to take a moment to reflect…” Mickey, already visibly tense, jumped up. “Aser, you’re NOT leaving!” he growled, voice low, but his frustration turned physical. “Mr.Mouse I think it’s best if we let him-” Mickey turned towards Mario and grabbed Mario by the collar, pulling him forward with force. “Mickey!” Sonic barked, springing to his feet. Bugs lunged simultaneously, grabbing Mickey’s arm and pulling him back. “What in the world are you doing?!” Bugs shouted.
Pomni and Jesscia immediately rushed to check on Mario, who looked stunned but unharmed. Dandy sat frozen, mouth slightly open, eyes wide in disbelief. “He… he just- he tried to- physically grab Mario?!” he muttered, voice trembling. Mark, tail whipping and ears back, stepped between them, claws out. His voice was low and dangerous. “Back off…” Mickey froze, eyes wide, a flush rising to his cheeks. “I-” “I said, back off.” Mark’s tone left no room for argument. The sheer intensity of his gaze made Mickey recoil. Mark didn’t wait for a response. He turned sharply, ears flat, tail flicking irritably, and stormed out of the room. The sudden departure left the room even heavier than before. The meeting limped forward in silence after that. Oswald and Sonic tried to regain some normalcy, but everyone was aware that Mark’s outburst had shaken the dynamics. Dandy, especially, sat quietly, his mind racing.
Later, after the meeting ended, Dandy found Mark alone in one of the quieter labs. He approached hesitantly, hands clasped together. “Mark… I… I don’t understand,” he said softly. “Why do you care so much? Why does this… The Blot… matter to you so much? I’ve never seen you do this with any medical matter before.” Mark looked up, dark green eyes weary but steady. “Because… I have it, Dandy.” His voice was quiet, almost brittle. Dandy froze. “You… what?!” His hands went to his chest. “You… you have the blot?” Mark nodded slowly. “Yes. But only Mario knows. No one else.” Dandy’s face went pale, a mix of shock, guilt, and fear flickering across his features. “Oh… my… I had no idea…” Mark’s tail curled around him as he looked down at his claws, exhaling slowly. “That’s why I push so hard. You don’t see me really complain much in front of the Stars, but every time it gets worse, I… I feel it. I can’t just sit and watch.” Dandy swallowed hard, voice trembling slightly. “I… I understand now. I didn’t know… I never realized how much this affects you… I’m sorry. Truly.” Mark’s gaze softened slightly, though the tension in his body remained. “It’s not just about me, Dandy. It’s about everyone… but I guess I just… I can’t hide it anymore.” Dandy nodded slowly, the weight of the revelation sinking in. “You don’t have to hide it from me,” he said quietly, voice filled with genuine concern.
Mark gave a faint, almost imperceptible nod, the first hint of calm in hours. Mark exhaled slowly, his tail curling lightly around his leg as he regarded Dandy. His claws were tucked in, and his posture had softened. “Dandy… I want to apologize,” he said quietly, voice low but steady. “I shouldn’t have shouted or yelled at you. I didn’t mean to be hurtful or disrespectful. I just…” He trailed off, glancing toward the floor. Dandy shook his head, a small, relieved smile forming. “No, Mark. I understand. I can see how much this… all of this… matters to you. And I appreciate your honesty.” Mark nodded, letting out a quiet breath. The tension in his body eased slightly. “Thank you… I’ll try to handle it better next time.” Before the conversation could continue, a shadow fell over them. Mark glanced up and saw Mickey standing there, arms crossed, ears back slightly, the ever-present glow of a smoldering cigar in his hand. His posture was defensive, but he was clearly trying to appear tough. Dandy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh… I think I’ll… excuse myself,” he said, stepping back. “You two… take care of things.” With that, he hurried away, leaving the two alone.
Mark’s eyes immediately narrowed as he turned to Mickey, tail flicking behind him. “Mickey… we need to talk. Now.” Mickey tilted his head, smoke curling from his cigar as he smirked. “Oh? And what exactly do you want to say, huh?” “You laid hands on Mario,” Mark said, voice low but firm, eyes burning with controlled fury. “Don't ever physically handle him. Not ever. That’s crossing a line.” Mickey’s smirk faltered just slightly. He felt guilty, yes, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, he took a slow drag of his cigar and blew the smoke straight at Mark, the acrid scent curling around the feline. Mark flinched, nose wrinkling in disgust and anger. “Are you serious?” he growled, claws briefly unsheathing. With a swift motion, he grabbed Mickey’s cigar and stomped it into the floor, grinding it out. Mickey’s eyes flared with anger. “Hey! That’s mine!” he snapped, ears flattening. Mark’s tail lashed behind him, voice low and dangerous. “You’re lucky I didn’t burn more than just that, Mickey.”
Mickey’s pride and temper flared. He stepped closer, grabbing Mark by the scarf, tugging him forward so their faces were just inches apart. “You’re going to stay in line, got it?” he hissed, voice low but sharp. Mark’s tail bristled, and his ears twitched. A deep, feline growl rumbled from his chest, startling Mickey slightly. “Don’t push me,” Mark warned, claws faintly extending, eyes glowing with restrained heat. Mickey blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the raw intensity. Then, muttering under his breath, he released Mark and straightened, brushing off his hands as if nothing had happened. “Fine,” he said, voice cool but edged with simmering frustration. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Mark standing there, scarf slightly askew, tail slowly curling back down. Mark exhaled slowly, feeling the familiar mix of irritation, disbelief, and… something else he couldn’t quite name.
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Hope you enjoyed the read :)
Also... @toonetowne made SCARMOUSE!!!