NINJAGO STUFF

GARMADON AND MORRO ONE-SHOT

I keep thinking about my son, and how he needs a friend. So here's a sweet, little one-shot about their daily-life in the Departed Realm.

Another day, if you could call it day. No one in the Departed Realm could ever tell the time. People just did as they pleased. Food wasn't necessary, or available. As for sleep? The term, "I'll sleep when I'm dead," doesn't really work. You're just stuck in purgatory forever, with nothing to do. You're alone, tortured by the regret you have from your life.

Morro sighed. Another day of deep thinking for him. It seemed as if that was all he ever did now. Well, it would be if Garmadon wasn't around. The old master was mature in ways Morro had hoped others would be. Smart, high-held, and when need be, was slightly sarcastic. To say he didn't have a sense of humor was a lie.

Morro smiled at the thought of the old man, and stood, ready to go visit him in wherever the man was meditating today.

The walk to Garmadon seemed longer than it was. The glares from villains, and people he had wronged in his past life taunted him as he made his way around. The boy clenched his fists, and continued walking, despite the snide comments.

After finally finding the master in the least gloomy area of the realm, Morro sat next to him, and stared out to whatever the realm was surrounded with.

"He talked about you a lot, you know."

Morro looked beside him to see the old man breaking his meditation pose, looking at the raven-haired boy. "He was worried about you; all alone in Ninjago, trying to prove your destiny."

Morro turned away. Garmadon hadn't told him that before.

"I remember going to meet with him in our father's monastery. When I found him, he was sitting in your old room. He kept shaking his head, and when I asked why, he said it was because it felt like he had lost his own son."

Morro felt a tear, or whatever could be compared to a tear, fall down his cheek. He hated crying. It meant scrunching your face up, and people feeling bad for you.

Garmadon stood, reaching for Morro's hand. The teenager hesitated, and grabbed the wrinkled hand before standing. After walking a few paces away, Garmadon took his pose.

"Today's lesson; The Art of the Silent Fist."