6 hour roadtrip through the middle of nowhere mountains is giving me a lot of time to think. ive got deerstripe on the mind rn

i think, rather than murdering moorsound as vengeance for mistreatment, he does it in a desperate grasp at feeling the same things for his clanmates as it seems they all do. but even standing before his fathers bloodied corpse, dead by his claws, deerpaw camt muster any sadness for the cat. it just emphasizes how fleeting life really is, and strengthens his ambition for legacy.

conflict

part 3 of this mini fantasy au series

“Alright, listen, guys. We can’t play around now. The battle of the bands starts in two days. The money for that thing could help us out with the rent before our lovely landlord kicks us out.” Mike reminded his friends, “So, are we gonna rehearse our butts off?”

Micky and Peter both saluted him, “Sir, yes, sir!”

“Are we gonna win the battle of the bands?” Mike asked, throwing his guitar strap over his shoulder.

“Sir, yes, sir!”

“Then let’s…! Where’s Davy?” Mike looked around.

“Back at the Vincent Van Gogh Gogh with a date, sir!” Peter yelled back, still standing upright and saluting him.

“You got to be kidding me…!” Mike threw his hands up in defeat.

Meanwhile, at the Vincent Van Gogh Gogh, Davy sat at a table by the jukebox with a lovely little thing next to him in the same chair that sat millions of girls before her. This latest edition had Auburn hair in a little bow with brown eyes decorated in shimmering blue eyeshadow. This one was a passionate one.

“I love you, Davy.” Said she.

“I love your face.” Said Davy with a goofy grin.

“I love you, Davy.” She said again.

“I love your eyes.” Davy replied.

“I love you, Davy!”

“I love you too!” Davy wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

“Oh, Davy, wouldn’t you just run away with me?” She rested her head in the crook of his neck and nuzzled up to him.

“Oh, anywhere, my love! To Paris! To Rome!” Davy reassured her.

“How about tonight?” She asked.

Suddenly, a record scratching was heard.

What a difference that word, ‘tonight’ held. She wasn’t just talking romantic prattle. They weren’t playing Romeo and Juliet. Davy could see what she was getting at. White dresses, wedding bells—did it get hot in the club all of a sudden?

“Aha…tonight?” Davy’s voice cracked like a teenage boy going through puberty.

“Yes! You do love me, don’t you, Davy?” She batted her eyelashes at him in the most enticing way she knew how.

“O-of course I do, Mary..!”

“It’s Marie.”

“I mean Marie!” Davy started to back away, his cheeks turning pink, “But, uh, tonight’s a little sudden for me…my band is preparing for this big competition and—oh, Mike, would have my throat if I abandoned them now.”

“Mike,” She pursed her lips, “He’s your guys’ leader, right? The one in the wool hat?”

Davy’s head bobbed up and down, “Y-yeah! He’s our leader! Yes, that he is, indeed. And I just have to do whatever he says. Our whole band does. He’s, uh, scary when he doesn’t get his way.”

It was true, Mike was the driving force of the Monkees. He helped keep them disciplined and made sure stuff got done for them, but in Davy’s case…he was just desperate for an excuse not to have to commit.

“I see…” Marie looked down and played with her ring, “I guess there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“In fact, we’re supposed to rehearse tonight! I have to go back to the Pad.” Davy stood up, his chair screeching where he hurriedly got up, “But I’ll, uh, call you later, darling.”

“Yes, I suppose…” She murmured.

Davy winced. He wasn’t going to be getting any second dates if he acted like that, but this was an emergency situation.

He practically flew all the way home, quick as he could. Once he was inside the beach house, he slammed the door behind him, leaned against it, and panted like a thirsty dog.

“You’re gonna get in trouble~” Micky taunted in a sing song voice, giving Davy a lopsided smirk as he twirled a drumstick around his finger.

“And just where have you been?” Mike took his guitar off of him and set it down before storming over.

“Listen, Mike, I know you’re mad but you’ve got to hear me out. There was this girl—“ Not the best opening to his defense.

“Oh gosh, this is getting good.” Micky held up a container of popcorn, letting Peter get some nibbles in, the pair wearing 3D glasses like this was just as entertaining as some movie.

“Oh, I know there’s a girl! There’s always a girl!” Mike scoffed, “Linda, Betty, Lou-Ann, Margie, you got yourself a different girl of the week!”

“I know, I know, but listen—“

“No! You listen!” Mike glared him down, “I’m getting just about tired of your antics. You know how badly the landlord has been breathing down our neck for rent! If we don’t win this competition, we may not have a place to sleep this weekend! I’m tired of you abandoning the band every time some little thing with big eyelashes and swirly hair comes a-knocking!”

Davy frowned, “Well, maybe you’d understand if you actually had a date every once in a while!”

“Oooooh.” Micky and Peter exchanged worried looks. Now it was getting serious.

Mike paused, for a moment something like hurt flickered in his eyes. Then he tensed his jaw and steeled his nerves, ready for round 2, “Like I’d ever have time! Seeing as I’m always picking up after you guys! You don’t ever give me time to have a life! Paying our bills, doing our chores, reminding you guys to practice like we’re a professional band or something!”

Davy’s face turned red. Even if Mike had a point, his pride wouldn’t allow for him to be talked down to like a kid, “Nobody asked you to! You’re the one who took it upon yourself to be our mother! Who asked you to?”

Micky and Peter gasped.

Mike blinked once or twice, “…Maybe I won’t, then. Seeing as nobody seems to appreciate it. See how well we do without me butting in all the time! Let’s just go broke and homeless, see if I care!”

His voice had started out weak, wounded, but it grew louder with conviction as he stormed past Davy and went out the door—slamming it behind him.

“Yeah! Who needs you!” Davy hollered after him but as soon as the door was shut, Davy’s brow creased with worry. Knowing he said more than a few things that he shouldn’t have.

Peter and Micky congregated around Davy.

“Uh oh, Mike was really mad…” Leave it to Micky to state the obvious.

But Peter shook his head, “Mike was really hurt…”

“Yeah, well, who needs him?” Davy huffed and turned away, “He had it coming, you know. Always bossing us around, telling us what to do. I didn’t come all the way to America to have another parental figure telling me how to live my life.”

“Mike tries his hardest…” Peter murmured, “He’s just looking out for us.”

“Well, maybe he could afford to lighten up a little.” Davy muttered, and awkwardly rubbed his arm. He was kind of hoping, deep down, that Mike would come back inside. But he didn’t.

It was rare for Mike to take the motorcycle. The thing had collected a lot of dust since he usually drove with the others in the Monkeemobile, but it felt appropriate for the evening.

He went to the very place Davy just got back from at the Vincent Van Gogh Gogh. Apparently Mike couldn’t get a date. He couldn’t have fun. Well, he’d show him. He went up to the bar.

“What’ll it be, stranger?” Asked the barkeep.

“Milkshake. Chocolate.” Mike replied, resting his face in his hand, pouting.

“Ooh, one of those days, eh?” The barkeep chuckled, “One chocolate milkshake coming up.”

“And leave the cherry.” Mike reminded him.

“Ooh, that’s a tall order…” A new voice entered the scene, belonging to a young woman. She wore a turtleneck, had long white blonde hair with a black bow, kind of reminding Mike of Alice in Wonderland, “Rough night?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Mike said grumpily, drumming his fingers on the counter as he waited for his order.

“Girl trouble?” She assumed.

Mike scoffed, “Like I got any girls to have trouble with. No, just had an argument with one of my roommates.”

“Aw, that’s too bad. Anything I can do to help?” She asked.

“Nah…it’s not your problem.”

“One chocolate milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry.” The barkeep gave him a reassuring wink, “On the house.”

“Thanks, Red.” Mike lifted his glass in appreciation then was about to take a sip but then he felt the new girl tap him on the shoulder.

“Say, you got a nickel? For the juke box?” She lifted a finger towards the machine, causing him to turn away to look at it.

“Huh? Oh…” Mike looked at it then realized, immediately going to search his pockets. He picked out a nickel then handed it to her, “Sure.”

“Thanks.” She smiled appreciatively, batting her eyelashes at him before going to the jukebox and playing, ‘Until It’s Time to Let You Go.’

Mike’s features softened when he heard it, “Oh wow. That’s one of my favorite songs.”

“Really? Mine too. This particular cover of the song is a little more country than my friends like, but I kind of like it…” she cooly went to sit down beside him again.

“My friends don’t really care for country either.” Mike murmured and played with the straw in his milkshake. He leaned down to take a sip.

“Sounds like you could use some new friends…” she reached out to touch his hand.

Mike swallowed hard in his throat and looked at her for a long time. All of a sudden, despite just taking a sip of his milkshake, his mouth felt dry. His cheeks felt warm. His heart, it was actually skipping a beat. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Closest being the lady at the laundromat but…this was different.

America First Ep. 1547 | 09/08/25