Yesterday, Gabe and I woke up and started our sixth month of dating. I looked around at our current location and figured that his roommate couldn't have picked a better moment to be a total bitch.
It all started Saturday night, when he and I had planned to spend a quiet night of gaming/chocolate/alcohol and other means of debauchery at his apartment in Verdun. His roommate (and ex), Pat, had told him before leaving for her family's home for Easter break that we should enjoy her absence while we could. Which wasn't a very nice way to put it, all things considered. Still, Gabe knew when to grasp an opportunity, so I was cordially invited to be completely sinful in any way I pleased, so long as we were together and he could be part of it.
Yes. He knows how to be the most insinuating dude ever.
Anyhow, I was glad to have the appartment and only share it with him. Because usually we have to be super quiet about everything we do, be it gaming, movie-watching or... well, you know. It's awkward that he lives with his ex, even though they only dated for like, two months before he realised she was the biggest ditz ever. He claims he found out soon enough that he wouldn't be able to date her seriously, mostly because everytime they started kissing, he got so turned off that he kept seeking the best ways to get away nicely.
I don't think she ever quite forgave him that. At least, I suppose it must have been out of vengeance that she then contacted Gabe on Saturday to tell him she had, on reflection, changed her plans and was coming back at 6 on Sunday.
Gabe, as it happens, did not take this kindly. But since she owes him three hundred dollars for the bills, he figured he wouldn't drive her off so quickly, so instead he started raging against her while talking to me.
I think it was at this point that I started getting really sick of her. I thought I had been pretty tolerant. I mean, it's bad enough that my boyfriend shares an appartment with one of his exes who keeps coming into his room while I'm there to offer us cookies she just baked and sweetly ask me what I intend to do with my life. I know I have nothing to fear from Gabe because anytime I bring her up all his ardour disappears and turns into an exasperated frown, so it's definitely not like he's going to cheat on me with her. But come on, must she really be such a *insert bad word here*?
I cannot wait until she moves out. His next roommate will be Rika, the Swiss' girlfriend and also the shadiest, strangest, most absent-minded person I have ever met. That will be awkward, especially when the Swiss will drop by and we'll be there, all four of us, trying to get some snog-time in with our respective mates, but at least I don't get the unpleasant impression that Rika's sole purpose in life is to make mine and Gabe's unlivable.
Which, apparently, is clearly not a problem for Pat, who drops in on us at the least opportune moments, with the timing of one who calculates it while petting an evil kitten and cackling obnoxiously.
Gabe and I were not pleased.
"I'm sorry, but we cannot partake in any debauchery if she's there..." I say, annoyed.
"I know, but we can't go to my dad's either, since he'll be there for Easter, moping, and we can't go to Mom's because she'll be there for Easter too... My three homes are full," he says, dismayed.
"And my only home will be occupied too," I say, and for a moment our future seems bleak and dismal.
It is at this moment that an idea comes to my mind.
"You're not going to like this," I say.
"What?"
"What if we just... well... rented a hotel room?"
Gabe's enthusiasm is underwhelming. "A hotel room. Really."
"I'm serious. Think about it. All the facilities, peace and quiet, a TV, a king-sized bed, and no one to disturb us."
"Val," Gabe says, clearly not taken with this brilliant idea, "while I appreciate the kinky side of it, I think we can pull off better in terms of classiness."
"Excuse me, some hotels are perfectly respectable," I say, amused. I know that he's considering. "For a decent price we have a full night of debauchery available."
"Right."
"And I am not going to sneak around your appartment like I'm sorry to disturb Pat's life with the fact that I'm your girlfriend now. I am sick of pretending I'm not there."
"She's a moron."
"Well, she's clearly intent on making our evening together unpleasant. I swear to God, I'm not going to let her intrude in any way, shape or form."
"Right. So. A hotel room, you said?"
"Holiday Inn will give us a pretty good fare, I think."
"What, like a hundred dollars a night?"
"That's the price, you know. And you should be glad we're not in the high season. At this time of year we'll probably have a whole floor to ourselves."
"I'm listening."
"We can pick one downtown, that way we can move back and forth with the metro instead of your car. It may be a bit pricier, but at least we'll be at walking distance of anything we want. Anyway, if you're not sure, let me do the payment. I don't mind."
"Alright, alright. You got me. But I'll pay half."
"Alright. I'll see about reservations."
On Sunday evening, we walk out of the metro with three bags, containing spare clothes, a Gamecube, twelve clinking bottles of beer, our laptops and a box that Gabe calls 'the box of surprises'. I didn't ask, but he cheerfully told me it contained condoms, massage oil and also a monkey on a spring with a fez that can play the cymbals.
I seriously love this boy.
The Holiday Inn downtown is located in the Chinatown. It's topped off with two pagoda-style roofs which we presumed to be the suites. As we looked at the eight-story hotel against the city lights, Gabe said, "I hope we're on the top floor."
"I don't think we're going to―"
"I hope we're on the top floor," he insists, smiling, like a child who won't hear what he doesn't want to hear.
I roll my eyes, amused, and we walk into the hotel lobby, decorated with oriental fountains and vases. I'm actually impressed to see a Chinese garden inside.
We walk up to the reception counter and wait, listening to a British woman explain to her apparently daft phone correspondant how to move furniture from her posh home to Montreal. A coughing sound brings our attention back to the receptionnist, who happens to be a very small man wearing a suit and a disgruntled expression. Gabe and I, cheerful and excited, declare that we have a reservation. I'd made it to Gabe's name in case they called. I didn't tell Mom that we were sleeping in a hotel. She thinks we were in Verdun. The last thing I needed was a confirmation call at my place.
"Gabe P.," my boyfriend says, trying not to let his bag clank with the beer bottles. He's grinning happily.
The receptionnist crosses our names out in his book then says, "May I have a credit card please."
I hand my credit card over, and watch as he boredly passes it through. As the receipt prints out and I'm handed a pen to sign, he also hands the key cards to Gabe in a little folded carton. I give the signed receipt back and feel Gabe poke me in the side happily. I turn and look at the open carton.
"We're room 810," he says, bursting with childish excitement. "We're on the top floor!"
"Enjoy your stay," the tiny receptionnist says, looking like he wants to quit his job and life in general.
"Thank you!" We both reply, like dorks, and giddily hurry back to the elevators.
As we step into the room and fumble around for the light switch, I realise I've never been this excited about a hotel room. And I've seen a lot of them.
"What does this switch do?" Gabe asks, and as he flicks it we watch the overhead light flicker to life after ten seconds of uncertainty.
"Oh my god," I say, awed.
"This place is classic," Gabe concurs, and we instantly drop all our bags and run all over the room, excitedly bouncing on the king-sized bed and back onto the floor, then towards everything single feature, loudly deciding that this was the most awesome place ever.
It is at this point that I reach the window, at the far end of the room, and pull the curtains aside to judge the view.
I stop at once.
"Holy shit."
Gabe reaches my side, and together we stare open-mouthed at the Montreal skyline, of which we are now a part. The dark sky overhead is swept regularly by the Ville-Marie Plaza beam, and the Complexe Desjardins tower rises to our right, with the Palais des Congrès to our left, and everything in between is all of the western skyline, bright, luminous, modern. Down below, a small crowd of people dressed in white from head to toe are getting ready to attend the Bal en Blanc (Ball in White), cars and taxis honk at the street lights...
"I've never slept in a hotel before," Gabe says, and suddenly our voices are much softer.
"Never? Ever ever?" I ask, surprised.
"Well, I went on a cruise once. I guess that's a boat hotel. But that's all."
"Well, then," I say, "let's celebrate."
"Okay."
We broke out of the bottles of beer, turned off all the lights, and sat in the window, drinking and eating chocolate, and looking at the city before us. The only light in the room was the glow of Montreal, and in between making idiotic comments, telling ridiculous stories, exchanging the occasional bit of disturbing gossip, or popping open a new bottle, we would pause and sit there in silence. In those moments, we would just stare at each other, lost in our own thoughts and I admired the way the city glow would hit his face sideways, casting deep pools of shadow on half his face, outlining features I never grow tired of seeing.
I know he does the same thing for me, and in those moments his lips would quirk up, and dimples in the corners would stretch towards the thin parentheses in his cheeks that outline his smile. He's fine-featured, an oval face that ends in a pointed chin covered in a smattering of hair. He doesn't shave often, because his beard doesn't grow very fast. Instead he just lets his blonde beard do as it pleases, giving him a permanent five o'clock shadow that I find ridiculously attractive. His hair too, blonde and thin, grows a bit untamed. He keeps it rather short and puts in a bit of pommade in it to keep it somewhat controlled, but in all honesty I like running my fingers through it, especially in the short hairs of his nape, where a bit of pressure makes him purr.
His nose is thin and it perts up a little. He claims he's got a leprechaun nose. I think he's adorable. In fact, for a country boy whose life before he moved to Montreal was doing odd tasks for his family, and whose jobs have almost consistently been to lift heavy weights and move large objects, he's got rather fine features and light skin. If it hadn't been for his somewhat stocky build or the strength he displays when he picks me up, I would only have seen the cheerful weirdo in him.
I can't help but smile, and he smiles back. His smile reaches up all the way into his blue eyes. We have the same eyes, he and I, but not set in the same lids. His eyes are circled deeply, like he hardly ever sleeps, although I know better. They're topped with thin eyebrows that move with more expression than I could say. But his eyes, the eyes I stare at in the mirror, they're gray, and turn blue in the sunlight. They're rimmed with an outer circle of dark blue that defines them clearly, and, in that very moment, as I stare at him in the city lights, I can see myself reflected in them.
"Almost five months," he says, softly.
I blink. After a quick mental calculation, I realize he's right. He's apparently better at remembering these things than I am.
"Hey, you're right," I admit, and, tipsy from the beer, I lean forward as he moves towards me. "Five months." I kiss him, and we enjoy the moment while it's there. Then, moving away, I say, with a lopsided smile, "You know I think we're easily going to get to one year like this."
"One year minimum, I hope," he says, taking a swill from his bottle. Then, throwing a glance at me, he says, "You're beautiful, you know that?"
"Excuse me, I was busy looking at you just now. Don't distract me."
"I think we should stay together, Val. I'm in love with you. I've never been this comfortable and silly with anyone before. I can be myself with you."
I grin. "You know, I think we should make a pact."
"A pact?" His interest is obvious. So is his amusement.
"Yes. Let's finish these bottles and make a pact."
"Alright."
We finish swilling at our bottles, exchanging comments about the room, and discussing what we wanted to do, until I say, raising my empty bottle, "I wish to make a pact with you."
He stares at me amusedly. "I'm listening."
"I hereby suggest that we stay together until we can bear to be together no more. On my part, I will love you until I can no longer endure your sexy, comfy, attractive, intelligent self."
"May the day never come," he says, smiling. "Alright. I sign the pact, and upgrade the clause by stating that for my part, I will love you until I can no longer deal with your ridiculously cute, beautiful, cultivated, sexy self. And I repeat. May the day never come."
"Shall I seal it with a kiss then?" I say, enjoying that I can still flirt with my boyfriend.
"I was thinking we could do a bit more," he smirks, fiendishly, and before I know it he's attacking me with kisses, and I can't help but squeal with laughter.
"Goodness, Mr. P., would you indeed seek to be depraved in this respectable place?" I laugh helplessly as he pulls me to my feet and begins kissing my throat.
"I was thinking we should be as depraved as physically possible. Do you know that I've been thinking about you for the past 48 hours? And not always in an innocent way."
"You're a horrible person," I chide him, nevertheless helping him out of his t-shirt and letting him dispose of my clothes as he pleases.
"I think we should put some music on," he says, stepping away to observe wolfishly as I remove most of my clothes. "And then I think we should try that carpet."
"Gabe!" I say, only half scandalized, watching his nicely rounded backside as he opens his laptop and starts a trance playlist. "There's a perfectly good bed not a metre away."
"And neither of us have ever tried making love on the floor," he states, coming back towards me, reaching around my waist. "It's as good a time as any to start."
I laugh, amazed at how much I'm in love with this ridiculous, excessively attractive man, and say, "Weren't we going to play Metroid first?"
He looks up. He'd been trailing kisses down my throat and towards my chest. "You know, I really think that Metroid would be a waste of our inebriation and anyway, we have the rest of our lives to play Metroid. But hotel rooms should be exploited for what they are: a sound-proof room with a Do Not Disturb sign."
After that, there wasn't much arguing.
I woke up Monday morning feeling better than I had in a while, and turned to Gabe as he still slept, his broad shoulders exposed enough for me to rest my head on them. He woke when I kissed his shoulder, and smiled, still half-asleep.
"Hm... My favourite part of the day. Waking up next to you," he mumbled, turning over to cuddle in close and bury his face in the crook of my neck.
At that moment, I decided that Pat had lost again. Lost an occasion to piss me off, and especially, she had lost Gabe. I didn't even feel bad about it.
We spent that day walking around downtown Montreal. We ate lunch on the steps of the Place-des-Arts, then walked down Ste-Catherine street all the way down to Atwater, looking at store fronts, at buildings, at people, like tourists in our own city. On street corners, we would turn to each other and grin like twits.
Is this what love feels like, then? It's awesome. Let's see how much longer it can last. :)
Love,
Val
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Monday, April 06, 2009
Superheroes
"Can I call you?"
I roll over and peer at my vibrating cell phone. The message stares back at me brightly from the tiny screen. It's Gabe, and his text message is followed by a smiley.
A brief glance at my clock indicates it is eleven AM. I'm impressed. Normally Gabe sleeps until noon. I call him back, to spare him his cell phone minutes.
"Hey," I mumble.
"Oh, shit," he says, cheerfully, on the line. "Did I wake you? I didn't mean to wake you."
"No... I'm conscious. What's up?"
"I sent you an email. You're going to laugh."
"What is it?" I say, rolling out of bed and groggily standing.
"Guess who I stayed up until three in the morning talking to?"
"The Swiss, I hope. It better not be Jen, your ex."
"I'm a masochist, but give me a little credit here. I wouldn't talk to Jen even if she offered me a kitten named after me. Which she has, the obsessive woman. And which I refused outright, if you recall."
"Okay, fine, so who was it?"
"Will."
Ugh. Will. The new bane of my existence. He's so annoying, I can't stand more than fifteen minutes in conversation with him anymore. He just talks and talks and talks, and when you let the conversation drift to new topics, as is healthy, he stays on the old subject until you can't stand hearing about it anymore.
"Goddamn," I grumble, stumbling down the hallway towards the stairs. "Thanks for the awesome wake-up."
"Val," Gabe says, laughingly, "You don't understand. I talked to him for three hours. Val, does he send you his screenwriting projects sometimes?"
Oh god. Oh god no. Please. Please don't talk to me about the horror.
Will's stories are so bad and full of immature and irrational angst that I feel like I'm watching a B-movie inside my head. It's terrible. Horrible. And full of spelling mistakes.
"Too often, actually."
"Oh my god, has he sent you that story on the superhero troop... So cheesy... The name is the X-tremes I think?"
I groan in pain, heading down the stairs towards my basement. "Yes, I have had the misfortune of reading it, yes."
"That's the thing. He sent it to me last night. And I told him how bad it was."
I pause. "What? You told him? You actually TOLD him?"
I never tell Will his stories are bad. Because otherwise I can't escape his self-righteous, self-explanatory, underhanded insults pertaining to my lack of comprehension. Telling Will his stories are bad, while completely truthful, is also a surefire way of not hearing about anything else for at least two weeks. I avoid truth in his case like the plague.
"Yeah, I told him. Val, I've never read something that bad before. Aside from that story you mocked with Lyx a few months back. But that was hilariously bad. Will's stuff is just... badly bad."
"Oh my god, I still can't believe you told him. Well, don't say I didn't warn you. He kept you until 3, you said?"
"Yeah. It was hilarious. I sent you the log. I figured you'd want something to cheer you up."
I'm highly amused. I'd been about to ask for it. "I'm logging onto msn. Meet you there?"
"Sure."
"Alright. I'll read that log. I love you."
"I love you, sleeping beauty."
"Oh, shut up."
He laughs, and we hang up.
This log, while translated, has not be altered or shortened in any way. Please enjoy what made my day.
Hey dude!
Hey. What's up?
Writing! And you?
On the phone, lol, like a chick.
Heheh with your chick!
Nah, with the Swiss, but it's almost the same.
lol
He wants your money. The Will of Fortune. Get it? Will. Wheel. We're badass.
Hey I need your opinion on something do you have a couple of minutes?
Yeah yeah
Will has sent XtremeDevoir.doc.
lol
You want my opinion on something in particular?
Yeah. Everything. Except the spelling. That's your chick's job.
Right. Two seconds.
We're fighting for a dream, Gabe!
Um. What??
Coz we have a dream that one day the world will be better.
What dream? I'm fine with seeing it burn, personally...
Oh! The villain!
Yeah. I'm trying to read but MSN won't stop beeping. I'm reading, alright?
Thanks.
... Done. Explain to me the point of this homework?
It's not homework... It's a script!
Okay... it's just that it's written "devoir" in the title. I thought you meant homework. "Devoir" in the sense of "duty" then?
Yeah.
I see.
Duty of a hero!
Well, now... Tell me what you want me to tell you...
Do you like it? You understand and it makes sense?
I'll be honest. I hate this kind of story. But it makes sense. In its own particular way.
Why do you hate that? It's superhero stuff, dude!
Too utopian for me.
Well, come on!
I like when it's real. When it's really difficult. When people don't have superpowers.
It's not that utopian.
Yes it is. How does the guy fight? He boxes people?
He stops time.
And boxes people.
Yeah.
One sniper and he's dead.
Yes. Like Captain America. And Daredevil.
So... How can he save anything?
Christ, he stops time, dude! Sure, if he's sniped in the back he can't do anything, but come on. Obviously if you send him into a volcano he dies too. lol
Okay, but... what's he trying to change in the world? Superheroes always have something they want to change in the world.
He saves the city from criminals.
But in a ridiculous fashion. He stops time and boxes them? Come on. If I were a criminal he'd be dead for a long time now.
He breaks arms, he tracks those who want to do evil.
So he's like the police?
Yeah, kinda. It's called vigilante, by the way.
Okay, listen. If you want to be sure to get a lot of shit in the fan in a dangerous neighbourhood, send in the police, break a few jaws, and let the crap and violence spread. If you want things to fix themselves, send in the social workers.
But the Spectre, in the X-tremes, he acts in the shadow, like Batman.
I'm sorry. To help the world, you don't need superheroes. What you need is more education and less religion.
But he doesn't really want to fix everything. He fights mutants, dude!
Sorry, Will. I hate that kind of story, you won't make me change my mind. I'm not saying your story is bad. I just hate your style. That's all.
I'll convert you one day, Gabe, you'll see. I'm not losing faith that you see my way one of these days. In the end there's no point to reading the Lord of the Rings. Nobody can control the world with a ring. Christ, send in the cops and everything is done! lol I mean, you see, Sauron doesn't make any sense!
That's not the same. LotR is a COMPLETELY different world from ours. With magic. I don't give a fuck that the ring can control everything. For all I know, that world is vulnerable to that. But in our world, with politics, illnesses, atomic bombs, I find that an avenger with a mask is ridiculous.
LotR is a critique of the society of Tolkien's time. And I'm not talking about our world. I'm not writing reality, I'm writing fantastique.
It's fantastique where the world is like ours. Physics follow their normal course.
Not really, no. Mutants everywhere, governement trying to eradicate an extraterrestrial menace...
Extraterrestrial? I thought you said mutant.
There's time travel...
Gigantic lizards destroying Tokyo? Sorry, not buying it. It's old. Superhero names and all that.
Okay, let me ask you seriously what you think of the superhero's role in today's society.
Utopia......!
I think they're a critique of society to show that, actually, there isn't a giant lizard in Tokyo. No extraterrestrial menace. That our social problems exist, though, and that we don't need superpowers to solve them. No magic ring to control the world...
Then you've chosen the worst way of proving it. It's old, overused, cliché.
...Differences exist, suffering touches everyone...
Will. What turns me on would be something like 1984. THAT is brilliant. BRILLIANT.
...that we have a destiny or not we can change things.
Or maybe a movie on the feeling of belonging in the event of an alien attack. That'd be cool. With a common enemy people would have something better to fight than their neighbours.
Well how do you make a movie on friendship and teamwork?
... lol
You should listen to Watchmen, dude. Anyway, I'll go. But I'm keeping my hope of convincing you, my friend.
Oooh, what a shame. It was so much fun. Also, no, lol, sorry, kthnxbai.
Ah, only time will tell us which of your scepticism or my determination is the strongest. Hehe. Good night, Gabe!
You're adorable. Woe be the day you turn into a realist.
Never! Don't worry.
The time stamps indicate that an hour goes by in silence.
So finally I decided to watch jl, then I came back to haunt the world.
JL?
Justice League.
Oh.
You know, superhero stuff you detest.
Are you really watching it or is it just a manner of speaking?
I really watch it. It's... you know, cartoons.
Yes, I know cartoons. Streaming?
Downloaded. But I like that! Bam!
Ahahaha... Bam?
BAM. I'll show you in person, you'll see. It's like "oh snap" but more violent.
Aha. Right.
I think that superheroes are like an ideal. If I want to live the real world I'll read bibliographies (sic) and listen to documentaries. Which I sometimes do. But I've had enough of my real life. So I live in my worlds.
I think that to escape the real world there's much better and to face reality too.
Just to give you an idea: Divine Avenger, Guardian of the Earth, Draken the Cursed, Darafelbe the Just, Ace of Spades, vampire hunter in the west, Fallen, the fallen angel, Red the mercenary with the silver watch, and a hundred others I can name just like that.
But why always the same pattern? It's just... old.
Because I'm two-sided. Normal and insane.
No, that's got nothing to do with it. Do you honestly think I'm down to earth? I'm nuts. But I can't stand that cheesy style.
Not at all. Look at Nathan. I'd have to make you read Redemption. I mean, you'd have to see the world through my eyes.
Umm... Who's Nathan? Does he have a cause? A hard life no one understands? A costume?
No, he's just a student.
Misunderstood?
No.
What does he do?
He's just a student who's looking for his father's identity.
See? Another cheesy cause. It's worn out.
What would you rather he do?
If I had to create a superhero for my own entertainment?
He's not a superhero! Nathan isn't part of the X-treme story. I'm writing about a friend's love life lol.
Huh? Wait, you're talking about something else entirely? What the heck are you talking about?
All those things I listed are different stories.
Oh. But that's off-topic and unrelated. I'm saying that I find the superhero genre really awful. I mean, superheroes attack what? Small-time bandits?
Or people like you. Meaning supervillains who think their friend's idea is puke-worthy.
Look, with that much strength I'd strangle the president of the IMF to change something concretely. Wait. Superheroes want my death too??? :0 Sadly, I'm not a villain.
But you only think of your personal gain, obviously you don't understand anything.
I don't like old ideas. And I think on a larger scale, that's all.
Yeah right.
Attacking the neighbourhood gangstas to change the world is pretty narrow-minded.
On a large scale the world is more important than the individual.
Yes.
So if you had powers you would save the world!
Unlimited powers?
No. You choose one. You can only have one power.
Mind control.
Alright, I choose time control.
I take the head of the political world, and I make what I judge to be best.
You can.
So it's what I want.
But I can go back in time to stop you from doing that.
So what? Don't we want the same thing?
Not necessarily.
Oh, I thought we were SuperFriends. Well, in that case, I'll mind control you first.
We'll, I'd help you if your cause were noble.
Kill yourself, Will. Then I'll take over the world.
You can't mind control me.
Yes, I can...?
No, because my spirit is dispersed across time.
What's that hooey?
It's my world, I can make it what I want.
wtf You can't invent new laws. And it's OUR world right now. If your power works on me, mine works on you.
Well, it comes out of my head, it's my imagination, it's my world.
Okay, fine. Let's pretend I can't mind control you. I could still kill you with my limitless zombies anyway.
In my world there are angels, demons, superheroes, mutants, robots. Wait, no, you can't. I have a friend who's a plane pilot.
Eh?
How do you catch me if I'm in a plane?
lol. You do realise I'm mind controlling everything, including National Defence? I have the army of the USA... and all the others, besides.
Your zombies...?
The people I mind control.
Oh, right. Well, I stop time.
Okay, then what? What'll you do?
I make my way to you and I try to reason with you.
How do you get to me?
In a plane, I told you!
I'm not standing in a meadow, Will.
Time is stopped, dude!
I'm in the 30th underground level of Area 51.
Time is stopped.
And so how will you pass the 1 meter of steel door?
With Golem. He controls organic metal. He's 3m high, and he can cross any metal.
What's this shit? It's you vs. me, your power vs. mine!
Golem is part of my team!
wtf? We don't HAVE teams.
Well, ok, then. If you have an underwater bunker, I must have access to something, right?
No, no, I'm in the 30th underground level of Area 51. Which I got by mind controlling the people of the National Defence. Which is legit. I used my power to get this bunker. See? Consequentiality.
I manage to find you.
Actually, you couldn't head down to find me.
Technically, I'd go back in time to before you go in there. Or before you're born. And I beat up your father, and you're never born. What can you do against that, huh?
... I think your nature would be your end. You're a bit too nice. Effectively, you're right, but you'd have to wait until I've actually taken over the world before realising you need to do this. Although if you do kill my father, I am screwed.
I could never resolve myself to killing you. Even when you take the world.
Well. If you grew the balls to do it, I'd be helpless. That said, I probably would think things through. If I knew that a guy could go back in time, I'd kill him first.
But you don't know that I can do it.
... So... how do you know I have mind control?
You took over the world, dude!
But... Will. With your logic then, you can't know that. If I have to keep this shit hidden, I won't do it out in the open. I'd have a cover.
Well, Christ, technically I'd do my investigation, yeah.
For all you know, I could be your measly newspaper boy.
Yeah.
I could be controlling the world right now. How would you know? I'm just Val's boyfriend to you.
Yeah, put that way I'm screwed. But would you really destroy me if you controlled the world and I were one of your friends?
If I knew that our visions of the world were different to the point where you would kill me if ever you found out that I was the leader of the revolution, yes, I wouldn't have the choice. You'd kill me in the past as soon as you'd learn.
But I wouldn't do it.
Um... Well, then, what would you do?
I'd go back in the past to convince you not to do what you're doing.
... You'd talk to me?
Yes.
Ok... But I'm not doing anything horrible. I'm not very mean.
Technically removing the option of choice is not good. But if you solve all the problems in the world, I'd support you. Superheroes fight for a world of peace.
Choice? You mean if I remove the right to choose their government? Oh, but that's what I'm aiming at.
Gabe, if you don't leave them any choice it's not good.
I figure that people are extraordinarily moronic sometimes. Should I really leave them the choice of continuing to fight for man-made gods? Hmm.
Yes, because they chose to.
So why be a superhero and help them, if the world has chosen to be a big crater of steaming shit?
Because they chose to.
Okay. I see.
There. You understand now, Gabe!
Now that they chose a pile of crap, they can die in it. That's what I understand.
I have an ideal of a much better world. There's a way to change things using good.
But you don't need superpowers for that.
Not everyone is rotten. You need a just mind.
You need social change.
That too.
Like, capitalism. How did we get stuck with that?
Because we live in our world, Gabe. It's a system adapted to humans.
People won't change. Communism seemed perfect on paper, and it's impossible to apply without mass corruption. It never worked. So how can you reach a utopia? Our humanity makes it impossible. If we were machines it'd work.
We can fight to make our world a better place. Fight the injustice of our days.
How can you do that without forcing the people?
By persuading them. By putting the first stone, by giving without asking for anything in return.
You do realise that the only reason we're in peace is that we're rich using other people? It's still slavery. Thinking like that is thinking that communism could actually work.
No.
Yes.
It's called trying to make our life better.
When you give, why do you do it?
Because I enjoy giving. Because I feel good and happy and appeased.
So you're mostly doing it for yourself, not for the other. It's still egoism.
That I'm happy when people don't suffer around me? How's that egoism? It's altruistic.
So you do it completely detached of all self-satisfying sentiments?
Yes. I give without counting.
And you don't enjoy the way people look at you when you give?
Not necessarily.
... This reminds me of freaking Kant.
Good exists, Gabe!
Technically, no.
Well, I exist. Sure, I have a point of view. I can't live for others.
Y'know, in real life it doesn't apply because it'd be too freaky, but deep down good and evil don't exist.
I make anti-war choices, I recycle for the good of the planet. Both exist, always together, because everything is relative.
I figure that since we don't have a reason of being, then there is no good, and there is no bad. There are good and bad things for YOU, that are different from the ones that are good for ME. And that's just our opinions.
Yes. Exactly. You exist. I exist. Why aren't we entitled to have good?
It's not a matter of entitlement.
Gabe, you won't shoot someone on the street tomorrow! But you can stop someone from doing it.
Well, of course not. It wouldn't be fun for me, and I haven't been raised to do it. If we had all been raised to kill people on the street, it wouldn't be considered 'evil'. And all this points to the fact that a lil dude fighting brigands on the streets is a little ridiculously ineffective to achieve a world full of pretty butterflies.
Well, everyone does what they can. What do you think of that? It's like saying there's no point in recycling, or bringing someone who's injured to the hospital. I'm not talking about saving the planet, I'm talking about saving a life.
No, you see, that's actually important. Recycling actually has a big impact. It's massive.
Well, if everyone fought to stop crime...
Oh, yes, if EVERYONE took up torch and pitchfork to attack the 50 cents of the world, we wouldn't have violence in our streets. Still, that wouldn't change the fundamental problems. You'd still need people to decide to live more moderately, that they share equally, without wanting more than their next, even when in need of something.
I'm not saying my hero's saving the world. He's just doing what he thinks is right.
A'ight. That's more reasonable. I can accept that. He fights in the wrong way but he's trying.
Good. He fights because he has the power to. But he also fights for vengeance. He would sacrifice himself for someone.
That's not vicious enough, Will. Example. I'm Spiderman. I'm pretty strong, right? If I want to do good, a maximum possible amount of good considering my capacities, I think I can do a little better than fight street gangs. If I have to sacrifice myself, then how can I do it?
No, because that's what the world expects of you.
Um.
That you fight for them.
Or that I can be a real asshole for the greater good, in time.
But you want to protect the mass, not individuals.
I could kidnap G.W. Bush's two daughters to force him into closing Guantanamo. I could threaten the life of Senators so that they don't enter the war for petrol in Irak. Now that's sacrifice for a cause. It's a bitch move, too. But it's for the greater good. It doesn't look too good on TV, though. Hm...
Sacrificing oneself without causing harm. But look at the Punisher. He kills criminals because he wants vengeance. He's not very politically correct. He's a hero anyway.
He's an angry man and that's okay. It's actually already better.
Well, my character, Arthur. His life is crap. He had a nice youth that he sacrificed for what he thought was right. He lost everything, his friends, his family, his love, for what he believed in. He didn't pause to whine about his fate. He goes out in the streets to break jaws because it's what keeps him alive. If he doesn't do it, it's the noose for him. It's all he has left, and each time he actually hopes that he'll die. Die for a just cause, like his friends.
Alright. Let's pretend for a moment that the costumes and superpowers don't annoy me greatly.
He doesn't have a costume. And he doesn't use his powers if he doesn't need them.
Ever seen the Patriot?
No.
With Mel Gibson? No? It's inspiring. Let me explain. Your story reminds me of that movie. It's war. Brits everywhere. There are american rebels, but they get pwned all the time. There's always this fucking tough guy berserk style who destroys a couple of enemies in a fit of rage but he always dies and it's not enough. Well, your heroes remind me of that guy. Strong and stupid. They attack the big block of Brits. BUT in the movie Mel Gibson, he's smart. He understands you need to strike at the head. So he stops using formation tactics and does a guerilla against the generals. The world isn't going wrong because there are villains. There are villains because the world is going wrong.
Well, Darius, the bad guy in my story, do you know why he's evil? Because he had a different view on the world. Because he loved a girl who would never love him, and because he's got an insatiable thirst for power. Because he wants to change things for his own good. He doesn't care about the people he leaves behind. He goes on in his cause.
Yeah, about that. Why her?
What?
I mean, he turns berserk because she rejected him, right?
Yeah.
But... why did he want HER?
Because he loved her...?
Well, Darius is a powerful man, right?
No.
What is he in life?
He's just really lucky. He wants to become president. He's just a candidate though.
Okay. And why does he want that girl?
They went to school together.
Okay, but... What was so special about HER?
You know who it is relatively to Arthur?
The girl or Darius?
Both. Darius was Arthur's best friend. They both wanted the same girl. That's what makes the story interesting! Kate is in love with Arthur, so Darius is jealous. Everything starts there. He'll end up killing her, but it wasn't her he was aiming at.
Ooh.
It's just that Kate sacrificed herself to save Arthur, because Darius was jealous of his friends' powers, and their happiness. So Darius kills Kate and all of Arthur's friends, and that's how Arthur becomes an avenger.
Um. Ok. So he's a cop now?
No. A welder.
My. I know so little of the welding world.
"I gave up after that," Gabe confides.
"You shouldn't waste your energy on stuff like this," I chide him. "I know you like a good argument and you contradict people for the sake of proving your point, but this is below you."
"I need the practice. Law degree, remember?"
"But he's harmless and completely clueless. You should know better."
"He started it. He shouldn't have asked me for my opinion."
"I'm scared to send you my stuff now."
"Maybe you should, though. I'm curious to find out what the hype is all about. Everyone says you're good."
"I'll see if you deserve it, then."
I broke down and sent him something anyway. I did not defend my story until three in the morning, though. All I got was an appreciative "I'm impressed. You make me proud. I've been laughing out loud since I started."
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Love,
Val
I roll over and peer at my vibrating cell phone. The message stares back at me brightly from the tiny screen. It's Gabe, and his text message is followed by a smiley.
A brief glance at my clock indicates it is eleven AM. I'm impressed. Normally Gabe sleeps until noon. I call him back, to spare him his cell phone minutes.
"Hey," I mumble.
"Oh, shit," he says, cheerfully, on the line. "Did I wake you? I didn't mean to wake you."
"No... I'm conscious. What's up?"
"I sent you an email. You're going to laugh."
"What is it?" I say, rolling out of bed and groggily standing.
"Guess who I stayed up until three in the morning talking to?"
"The Swiss, I hope. It better not be Jen, your ex."
"I'm a masochist, but give me a little credit here. I wouldn't talk to Jen even if she offered me a kitten named after me. Which she has, the obsessive woman. And which I refused outright, if you recall."
"Okay, fine, so who was it?"
"Will."
Ugh. Will. The new bane of my existence. He's so annoying, I can't stand more than fifteen minutes in conversation with him anymore. He just talks and talks and talks, and when you let the conversation drift to new topics, as is healthy, he stays on the old subject until you can't stand hearing about it anymore.
"Goddamn," I grumble, stumbling down the hallway towards the stairs. "Thanks for the awesome wake-up."
"Val," Gabe says, laughingly, "You don't understand. I talked to him for three hours. Val, does he send you his screenwriting projects sometimes?"
Oh god. Oh god no. Please. Please don't talk to me about the horror.
Will's stories are so bad and full of immature and irrational angst that I feel like I'm watching a B-movie inside my head. It's terrible. Horrible. And full of spelling mistakes.
"Too often, actually."
"Oh my god, has he sent you that story on the superhero troop... So cheesy... The name is the X-tremes I think?"
I groan in pain, heading down the stairs towards my basement. "Yes, I have had the misfortune of reading it, yes."
"That's the thing. He sent it to me last night. And I told him how bad it was."
I pause. "What? You told him? You actually TOLD him?"
I never tell Will his stories are bad. Because otherwise I can't escape his self-righteous, self-explanatory, underhanded insults pertaining to my lack of comprehension. Telling Will his stories are bad, while completely truthful, is also a surefire way of not hearing about anything else for at least two weeks. I avoid truth in his case like the plague.
"Yeah, I told him. Val, I've never read something that bad before. Aside from that story you mocked with Lyx a few months back. But that was hilariously bad. Will's stuff is just... badly bad."
"Oh my god, I still can't believe you told him. Well, don't say I didn't warn you. He kept you until 3, you said?"
"Yeah. It was hilarious. I sent you the log. I figured you'd want something to cheer you up."
I'm highly amused. I'd been about to ask for it. "I'm logging onto msn. Meet you there?"
"Sure."
"Alright. I'll read that log. I love you."
"I love you, sleeping beauty."
"Oh, shut up."
He laughs, and we hang up.
This log, while translated, has not be altered or shortened in any way. Please enjoy what made my day.
Hey dude!
Hey. What's up?
Writing! And you?
On the phone, lol, like a chick.
Heheh with your chick!
Nah, with the Swiss, but it's almost the same.
lol
He wants your money. The Will of Fortune. Get it? Will. Wheel. We're badass.
Hey I need your opinion on something do you have a couple of minutes?
Yeah yeah
Will has sent XtremeDevoir.doc.
lol
You want my opinion on something in particular?
Yeah. Everything. Except the spelling. That's your chick's job.
Right. Two seconds.
We're fighting for a dream, Gabe!
Um. What??
Coz we have a dream that one day the world will be better.
What dream? I'm fine with seeing it burn, personally...
Oh! The villain!
Yeah. I'm trying to read but MSN won't stop beeping. I'm reading, alright?
Thanks.
... Done. Explain to me the point of this homework?
It's not homework... It's a script!
Okay... it's just that it's written "devoir" in the title. I thought you meant homework. "Devoir" in the sense of "duty" then?
Yeah.
I see.
Duty of a hero!
Well, now... Tell me what you want me to tell you...
Do you like it? You understand and it makes sense?
I'll be honest. I hate this kind of story. But it makes sense. In its own particular way.
Why do you hate that? It's superhero stuff, dude!
Too utopian for me.
Well, come on!
I like when it's real. When it's really difficult. When people don't have superpowers.
It's not that utopian.
Yes it is. How does the guy fight? He boxes people?
He stops time.
And boxes people.
Yeah.
One sniper and he's dead.
Yes. Like Captain America. And Daredevil.
So... How can he save anything?
Christ, he stops time, dude! Sure, if he's sniped in the back he can't do anything, but come on. Obviously if you send him into a volcano he dies too. lol
Okay, but... what's he trying to change in the world? Superheroes always have something they want to change in the world.
He saves the city from criminals.
But in a ridiculous fashion. He stops time and boxes them? Come on. If I were a criminal he'd be dead for a long time now.
He breaks arms, he tracks those who want to do evil.
So he's like the police?
Yeah, kinda. It's called vigilante, by the way.
Okay, listen. If you want to be sure to get a lot of shit in the fan in a dangerous neighbourhood, send in the police, break a few jaws, and let the crap and violence spread. If you want things to fix themselves, send in the social workers.
But the Spectre, in the X-tremes, he acts in the shadow, like Batman.
I'm sorry. To help the world, you don't need superheroes. What you need is more education and less religion.
But he doesn't really want to fix everything. He fights mutants, dude!
Sorry, Will. I hate that kind of story, you won't make me change my mind. I'm not saying your story is bad. I just hate your style. That's all.
I'll convert you one day, Gabe, you'll see. I'm not losing faith that you see my way one of these days. In the end there's no point to reading the Lord of the Rings. Nobody can control the world with a ring. Christ, send in the cops and everything is done! lol I mean, you see, Sauron doesn't make any sense!
That's not the same. LotR is a COMPLETELY different world from ours. With magic. I don't give a fuck that the ring can control everything. For all I know, that world is vulnerable to that. But in our world, with politics, illnesses, atomic bombs, I find that an avenger with a mask is ridiculous.
LotR is a critique of the society of Tolkien's time. And I'm not talking about our world. I'm not writing reality, I'm writing fantastique.
It's fantastique where the world is like ours. Physics follow their normal course.
Not really, no. Mutants everywhere, governement trying to eradicate an extraterrestrial menace...
Extraterrestrial? I thought you said mutant.
There's time travel...
Gigantic lizards destroying Tokyo? Sorry, not buying it. It's old. Superhero names and all that.
Okay, let me ask you seriously what you think of the superhero's role in today's society.
Utopia......!
I think they're a critique of society to show that, actually, there isn't a giant lizard in Tokyo. No extraterrestrial menace. That our social problems exist, though, and that we don't need superpowers to solve them. No magic ring to control the world...
Then you've chosen the worst way of proving it. It's old, overused, cliché.
...Differences exist, suffering touches everyone...
Will. What turns me on would be something like 1984. THAT is brilliant. BRILLIANT.
...that we have a destiny or not we can change things.
Or maybe a movie on the feeling of belonging in the event of an alien attack. That'd be cool. With a common enemy people would have something better to fight than their neighbours.
Well how do you make a movie on friendship and teamwork?
... lol
You should listen to Watchmen, dude. Anyway, I'll go. But I'm keeping my hope of convincing you, my friend.
Oooh, what a shame. It was so much fun. Also, no, lol, sorry, kthnxbai.
Ah, only time will tell us which of your scepticism or my determination is the strongest. Hehe. Good night, Gabe!
You're adorable. Woe be the day you turn into a realist.
Never! Don't worry.
The time stamps indicate that an hour goes by in silence.
So finally I decided to watch jl, then I came back to haunt the world.
JL?
Justice League.
Oh.
You know, superhero stuff you detest.
Are you really watching it or is it just a manner of speaking?
I really watch it. It's... you know, cartoons.
Yes, I know cartoons. Streaming?
Downloaded. But I like that! Bam!
Ahahaha... Bam?
BAM. I'll show you in person, you'll see. It's like "oh snap" but more violent.
Aha. Right.
I think that superheroes are like an ideal. If I want to live the real world I'll read bibliographies (sic) and listen to documentaries. Which I sometimes do. But I've had enough of my real life. So I live in my worlds.
I think that to escape the real world there's much better and to face reality too.
Just to give you an idea: Divine Avenger, Guardian of the Earth, Draken the Cursed, Darafelbe the Just, Ace of Spades, vampire hunter in the west, Fallen, the fallen angel, Red the mercenary with the silver watch, and a hundred others I can name just like that.
But why always the same pattern? It's just... old.
Because I'm two-sided. Normal and insane.
No, that's got nothing to do with it. Do you honestly think I'm down to earth? I'm nuts. But I can't stand that cheesy style.
Not at all. Look at Nathan. I'd have to make you read Redemption. I mean, you'd have to see the world through my eyes.
Umm... Who's Nathan? Does he have a cause? A hard life no one understands? A costume?
No, he's just a student.
Misunderstood?
No.
What does he do?
He's just a student who's looking for his father's identity.
See? Another cheesy cause. It's worn out.
What would you rather he do?
If I had to create a superhero for my own entertainment?
He's not a superhero! Nathan isn't part of the X-treme story. I'm writing about a friend's love life lol.
Huh? Wait, you're talking about something else entirely? What the heck are you talking about?
All those things I listed are different stories.
Oh. But that's off-topic and unrelated. I'm saying that I find the superhero genre really awful. I mean, superheroes attack what? Small-time bandits?
Or people like you. Meaning supervillains who think their friend's idea is puke-worthy.
Look, with that much strength I'd strangle the president of the IMF to change something concretely. Wait. Superheroes want my death too??? :0 Sadly, I'm not a villain.
But you only think of your personal gain, obviously you don't understand anything.
I don't like old ideas. And I think on a larger scale, that's all.
Yeah right.
Attacking the neighbourhood gangstas to change the world is pretty narrow-minded.
On a large scale the world is more important than the individual.
Yes.
So if you had powers you would save the world!
Unlimited powers?
No. You choose one. You can only have one power.
Mind control.
Alright, I choose time control.
I take the head of the political world, and I make what I judge to be best.
You can.
So it's what I want.
But I can go back in time to stop you from doing that.
So what? Don't we want the same thing?
Not necessarily.
Oh, I thought we were SuperFriends. Well, in that case, I'll mind control you first.
We'll, I'd help you if your cause were noble.
Kill yourself, Will. Then I'll take over the world.
You can't mind control me.
Yes, I can...?
No, because my spirit is dispersed across time.
What's that hooey?
It's my world, I can make it what I want.
wtf You can't invent new laws. And it's OUR world right now. If your power works on me, mine works on you.
Well, it comes out of my head, it's my imagination, it's my world.
Okay, fine. Let's pretend I can't mind control you. I could still kill you with my limitless zombies anyway.
In my world there are angels, demons, superheroes, mutants, robots. Wait, no, you can't. I have a friend who's a plane pilot.
Eh?
How do you catch me if I'm in a plane?
lol. You do realise I'm mind controlling everything, including National Defence? I have the army of the USA... and all the others, besides.
Your zombies...?
The people I mind control.
Oh, right. Well, I stop time.
Okay, then what? What'll you do?
I make my way to you and I try to reason with you.
How do you get to me?
In a plane, I told you!
I'm not standing in a meadow, Will.
Time is stopped, dude!
I'm in the 30th underground level of Area 51.
Time is stopped.
And so how will you pass the 1 meter of steel door?
With Golem. He controls organic metal. He's 3m high, and he can cross any metal.
What's this shit? It's you vs. me, your power vs. mine!
Golem is part of my team!
wtf? We don't HAVE teams.
Well, ok, then. If you have an underwater bunker, I must have access to something, right?
No, no, I'm in the 30th underground level of Area 51. Which I got by mind controlling the people of the National Defence. Which is legit. I used my power to get this bunker. See? Consequentiality.
I manage to find you.
Actually, you couldn't head down to find me.
Technically, I'd go back in time to before you go in there. Or before you're born. And I beat up your father, and you're never born. What can you do against that, huh?
... I think your nature would be your end. You're a bit too nice. Effectively, you're right, but you'd have to wait until I've actually taken over the world before realising you need to do this. Although if you do kill my father, I am screwed.
I could never resolve myself to killing you. Even when you take the world.
Well. If you grew the balls to do it, I'd be helpless. That said, I probably would think things through. If I knew that a guy could go back in time, I'd kill him first.
But you don't know that I can do it.
... So... how do you know I have mind control?
You took over the world, dude!
But... Will. With your logic then, you can't know that. If I have to keep this shit hidden, I won't do it out in the open. I'd have a cover.
Well, Christ, technically I'd do my investigation, yeah.
For all you know, I could be your measly newspaper boy.
Yeah.
I could be controlling the world right now. How would you know? I'm just Val's boyfriend to you.
Yeah, put that way I'm screwed. But would you really destroy me if you controlled the world and I were one of your friends?
If I knew that our visions of the world were different to the point where you would kill me if ever you found out that I was the leader of the revolution, yes, I wouldn't have the choice. You'd kill me in the past as soon as you'd learn.
But I wouldn't do it.
Um... Well, then, what would you do?
I'd go back in the past to convince you not to do what you're doing.
... You'd talk to me?
Yes.
Ok... But I'm not doing anything horrible. I'm not very mean.
Technically removing the option of choice is not good. But if you solve all the problems in the world, I'd support you. Superheroes fight for a world of peace.
Choice? You mean if I remove the right to choose their government? Oh, but that's what I'm aiming at.
Gabe, if you don't leave them any choice it's not good.
I figure that people are extraordinarily moronic sometimes. Should I really leave them the choice of continuing to fight for man-made gods? Hmm.
Yes, because they chose to.
So why be a superhero and help them, if the world has chosen to be a big crater of steaming shit?
Because they chose to.
Okay. I see.
There. You understand now, Gabe!
Now that they chose a pile of crap, they can die in it. That's what I understand.
I have an ideal of a much better world. There's a way to change things using good.
But you don't need superpowers for that.
Not everyone is rotten. You need a just mind.
You need social change.
That too.
Like, capitalism. How did we get stuck with that?
Because we live in our world, Gabe. It's a system adapted to humans.
People won't change. Communism seemed perfect on paper, and it's impossible to apply without mass corruption. It never worked. So how can you reach a utopia? Our humanity makes it impossible. If we were machines it'd work.
We can fight to make our world a better place. Fight the injustice of our days.
How can you do that without forcing the people?
By persuading them. By putting the first stone, by giving without asking for anything in return.
You do realise that the only reason we're in peace is that we're rich using other people? It's still slavery. Thinking like that is thinking that communism could actually work.
No.
Yes.
It's called trying to make our life better.
When you give, why do you do it?
Because I enjoy giving. Because I feel good and happy and appeased.
So you're mostly doing it for yourself, not for the other. It's still egoism.
That I'm happy when people don't suffer around me? How's that egoism? It's altruistic.
So you do it completely detached of all self-satisfying sentiments?
Yes. I give without counting.
And you don't enjoy the way people look at you when you give?
Not necessarily.
... This reminds me of freaking Kant.
Good exists, Gabe!
Technically, no.
Well, I exist. Sure, I have a point of view. I can't live for others.
Y'know, in real life it doesn't apply because it'd be too freaky, but deep down good and evil don't exist.
I make anti-war choices, I recycle for the good of the planet. Both exist, always together, because everything is relative.
I figure that since we don't have a reason of being, then there is no good, and there is no bad. There are good and bad things for YOU, that are different from the ones that are good for ME. And that's just our opinions.
Yes. Exactly. You exist. I exist. Why aren't we entitled to have good?
It's not a matter of entitlement.
Gabe, you won't shoot someone on the street tomorrow! But you can stop someone from doing it.
Well, of course not. It wouldn't be fun for me, and I haven't been raised to do it. If we had all been raised to kill people on the street, it wouldn't be considered 'evil'. And all this points to the fact that a lil dude fighting brigands on the streets is a little ridiculously ineffective to achieve a world full of pretty butterflies.
Well, everyone does what they can. What do you think of that? It's like saying there's no point in recycling, or bringing someone who's injured to the hospital. I'm not talking about saving the planet, I'm talking about saving a life.
No, you see, that's actually important. Recycling actually has a big impact. It's massive.
Well, if everyone fought to stop crime...
Oh, yes, if EVERYONE took up torch and pitchfork to attack the 50 cents of the world, we wouldn't have violence in our streets. Still, that wouldn't change the fundamental problems. You'd still need people to decide to live more moderately, that they share equally, without wanting more than their next, even when in need of something.
I'm not saying my hero's saving the world. He's just doing what he thinks is right.
A'ight. That's more reasonable. I can accept that. He fights in the wrong way but he's trying.
Good. He fights because he has the power to. But he also fights for vengeance. He would sacrifice himself for someone.
That's not vicious enough, Will. Example. I'm Spiderman. I'm pretty strong, right? If I want to do good, a maximum possible amount of good considering my capacities, I think I can do a little better than fight street gangs. If I have to sacrifice myself, then how can I do it?
No, because that's what the world expects of you.
Um.
That you fight for them.
Or that I can be a real asshole for the greater good, in time.
But you want to protect the mass, not individuals.
I could kidnap G.W. Bush's two daughters to force him into closing Guantanamo. I could threaten the life of Senators so that they don't enter the war for petrol in Irak. Now that's sacrifice for a cause. It's a bitch move, too. But it's for the greater good. It doesn't look too good on TV, though. Hm...
Sacrificing oneself without causing harm. But look at the Punisher. He kills criminals because he wants vengeance. He's not very politically correct. He's a hero anyway.
He's an angry man and that's okay. It's actually already better.
Well, my character, Arthur. His life is crap. He had a nice youth that he sacrificed for what he thought was right. He lost everything, his friends, his family, his love, for what he believed in. He didn't pause to whine about his fate. He goes out in the streets to break jaws because it's what keeps him alive. If he doesn't do it, it's the noose for him. It's all he has left, and each time he actually hopes that he'll die. Die for a just cause, like his friends.
Alright. Let's pretend for a moment that the costumes and superpowers don't annoy me greatly.
He doesn't have a costume. And he doesn't use his powers if he doesn't need them.
Ever seen the Patriot?
No.
With Mel Gibson? No? It's inspiring. Let me explain. Your story reminds me of that movie. It's war. Brits everywhere. There are american rebels, but they get pwned all the time. There's always this fucking tough guy berserk style who destroys a couple of enemies in a fit of rage but he always dies and it's not enough. Well, your heroes remind me of that guy. Strong and stupid. They attack the big block of Brits. BUT in the movie Mel Gibson, he's smart. He understands you need to strike at the head. So he stops using formation tactics and does a guerilla against the generals. The world isn't going wrong because there are villains. There are villains because the world is going wrong.
Well, Darius, the bad guy in my story, do you know why he's evil? Because he had a different view on the world. Because he loved a girl who would never love him, and because he's got an insatiable thirst for power. Because he wants to change things for his own good. He doesn't care about the people he leaves behind. He goes on in his cause.
Yeah, about that. Why her?
What?
I mean, he turns berserk because she rejected him, right?
Yeah.
But... why did he want HER?
Because he loved her...?
Well, Darius is a powerful man, right?
No.
What is he in life?
He's just really lucky. He wants to become president. He's just a candidate though.
Okay. And why does he want that girl?
They went to school together.
Okay, but... What was so special about HER?
You know who it is relatively to Arthur?
The girl or Darius?
Both. Darius was Arthur's best friend. They both wanted the same girl. That's what makes the story interesting! Kate is in love with Arthur, so Darius is jealous. Everything starts there. He'll end up killing her, but it wasn't her he was aiming at.
Ooh.
It's just that Kate sacrificed herself to save Arthur, because Darius was jealous of his friends' powers, and their happiness. So Darius kills Kate and all of Arthur's friends, and that's how Arthur becomes an avenger.
Um. Ok. So he's a cop now?
No. A welder.
My. I know so little of the welding world.
"I gave up after that," Gabe confides.
"You shouldn't waste your energy on stuff like this," I chide him. "I know you like a good argument and you contradict people for the sake of proving your point, but this is below you."
"I need the practice. Law degree, remember?"
"But he's harmless and completely clueless. You should know better."
"He started it. He shouldn't have asked me for my opinion."
"I'm scared to send you my stuff now."
"Maybe you should, though. I'm curious to find out what the hype is all about. Everyone says you're good."
"I'll see if you deserve it, then."
I broke down and sent him something anyway. I did not defend my story until three in the morning, though. All I got was an appreciative "I'm impressed. You make me proud. I've been laughing out loud since I started."
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Love,
Val
Sunday, March 08, 2009
In an effort to keep up
Last night was Slim's 20th birthday at Gabriel's place, where we usually do our summer campfires. I went because Slim remains, in spite of his plaintive tendencies, one of the best friends I can rely on. PB, Melanie, Anthony, Ban (who drove me there), Guy, Rick, Gabriel's girlfriend Anick, and Will and Kelly (Will's college friend, who is also a man, in spite of the way we call him Kelly) were there. It was a quiet evening, full of dirty jokes and stupid comments.
Will, it turns out, doesn't fit too well with PB and Anthony, who tend to lean towards jocular extravaganza rather than Will's geeky conversations on teleportation and screenwriting. And, considering we were at a party, I'd much rather watch PB and Anthony play pool than discuss the ethical and physical repercussions of bending the space-time continuum. I looked at Slim for help, but he was engaged in an animated conversation about the risks of anal sex with Ban and Rick (boys will be boys), and Melanie knew better than to get involved in my rescue.
So, when I finally got away, I stayed away. Will scares me sometimes. He's not a bad guy, but his efforts to fit in with what he considers to be the 'cool crowd' (that, apparently, is us) are a bit... much, sometimes.
I found refuge next to Anick and Melanie, and we discussed our future ambitions with Slim and Ban. Melanie and I will both attend the Lit bachelor's at UQAM next fall (we got our acceptance letters on March 2nd; the applications end on Feb 28th, if that can tell you anything about the speedy news). Anick is torn between cinema at U of M, or sociology at UQAM. Gabriel has applied, along with Slim, in cinema at UQAM, but their back-up plans are, respectively, cinema at U of M and post-elementary education.
Yeah, I know! Slim, a teacher? Who'd have thought?
Ban, on his part, has also applied at UQAM in post-elementary education. Rick's headed into psychology, and PB is continuing his Publicity and Marketing program at UQAM instead of going to Québec city like he did last year.
Things are going good.
Towards the end of the evening, after a few hours of dodging Anthony's cheap come-ons (that he doesn't actually mean), laughing at PB's antics, and avoiding Will's ensaring talk of temporal improbabilities, I wound up sitting on the floor next to Slim, and asking him how the life was going.
He shrugged, and said, "It's actually... um..." At this point I turned my head and saw that Will had force-seated himself between me and Anick, who had been on my other side. I turned back to Slim and he cheerfully asked, "Hey. You know what? We should go for a little walk."
I instantly agreed, because Will was already beginning to tell me about how he wasn't flexible in the least, and while his cardio was good, he could hardly stretch his legs.
Don't get me wrong. I appreciate the guy. It's just... he can be so invasive.
So Slim and I stood, as one, and headed towards the stairs. Will, not getting the hint, called out, "Hey, where do you two think you're going?"
Everyone else, who was sitting around and chatting, barely even glanced at us until Will called out. It's not like Slim and I haven't had asides during parties before. Nobody's ever made a case of it. We're best friends. It happens. Anthony and Melanie have the same thing.
"They're going to fuck each others' brains out," Anthony flatly said, and everyone, because they knew it wasn't true, agreed wholeheartedly.
PB, playing with his cue while he waited for Ban to make his move on the pool table, hardly looked up from the game and said, "Use a condom, kids."
"Vaaal," Will said, realising everything was a joke but not getting the hint to let it go, "you have a boyfriend! Do you want me to tell Gabe about this?"
Gabe, by the way, wasn't there because he doesn't really care for Slim. He knows I used to have a crush on him and he thinks Slim is 1. an idiot for not thinking I was good enough for him, and 2. a brilliant man for leaving me single and ready for Gabe to date, but especially that Slim doesn't treat me as well as I deserve. Because he'll never admit it, but he prefers to stay away from Slim rather than feel jealousy he knows he doesn't need to feel.
I can't say I blame him. We're both juggling the exclusivity of our relationship with the fact that we both have more friends of the opposite sex in our immediate surroundings than anything else. Feelings of jealousy are part of our personalities, as is the conviction that a person should be free to have the friends they wish to have, even when in a relationship. It's a constant tug-o-war between our possessiveness and our wish for the other to have some breathing space.
Anyway. Will implying he'd exaggerate facts, even as a joke, to Gabe about Slim and I, is just about the last sort of insiduous poison I need.
Slim, getting the noxious radiations from me, just glanced back at Will and said, "A ten minute talk is hardly enough to warrant threats of breaking a couple up."
Will, duly chastened, just laughed and returned to talking with Anick, who looked positively bored.
I didn't reply, and just followed Slim upstairs.
The first thing he said, once we were in the silence of the living room, was, "Goddamn, Will hasn't shut up all evening."
We immediately start agreeing that Will really needs to take things easy, that he can't expect to fit in like an old mate with our group whose members have known each other for years.
"Did you see his talk of teleportation?" I whisper, afflicted. "I don't mind that talk in school, when discussing settings and plots, but I mean, come on..."
"I know," Slim wisely says. "I drove him here." And he nods painfully, with a half-smile. "And frankly, I'm sleeping here. I don't want him to sleep at my place again."
"He insulted everything about me last Tuesday when he came to my house for the projects," I explain, frustrated. "He insulted my house, he compared it to yours, he insulted my basement's setup, he insulted me by saying 'yeah... clearly you don't receive many people here, do you?' I mean, no, I don't. Because I don't like company in my house. And then, when Gabe and I were having lunch with him, he started insulting my clothes in front of my boyfriend. I was wearing a t-shirt. It wasn't dressy enough for Will."
Slim frowns. "What the―"
"I mean, Gabe thinks my wearing plain t-shirts is sexier because it's so casual and I'm more comfortable in them. But Will just insults them, saying I should make an effort. I mean, excuse me, I'm not dating him, I'm dating Gabe, and I'm going to wear what I damn well please!"
"Seriously, and by the way, t-shirts ARE attractive. I mean, I feel kinda bad about Anthony and PB mocking him a little, but at the same time, it IS kinda annoying."
At this point, we hear footsteps in the stairs, and Will appears, looking genial and curious. Slim and I clam up, and wait for him to say something.
"So, what are you two up to?" He asks.
"Um. Catching up," I say, and it was true. "We haven't talked one on one in a long time."
This is followed by another expectant pause. Will clearly isn't getting the hint. He says, "Well, I was just wondering how long your chat was going to be, because leaving people like that is really rude."
"They can handle themselves for ten minutes," I say, now exasperated.
"Maybe. So. What are you talking about?"
"Stuff," I say, and by the way, the shorter my answers get, the more annoyed I am.
Will motions between himself and me, then between himself and Slim, and says, "Come on, guys, you can tell me. We're a trio, right?"
"Actually," Slim says, "I've known Val for a long time, and we're kinda just in need of some alone talking." Read: No, we are not a trio. We are a duo. And you're not part of it.
And, to rid ourselves of him faster, I say, passing an arm around Slim's waist, "Yeah. Slim and I have something special."
Slim starts to waggle his tongue at me, and, as Will laughs, I kneel before Slim and he undoes his belt. Will, laughing louder, suddenly cries, "Okay, folks, wait until I'm out of here!" And, as we expected, he heads back downstairs. Slim reties his belt and I stand again, exasperated. Downstairs, Will is loudly retelling what he witnessed, and Slim and I listen as Anthony and PB send him another couple of annoyed let-it-be undertones. No one would honestly believe that Slim and I did anything, but Will had been so scandalized by the sexual comments everyone makes to the others that he naturally would freak out.
"See that?" I whisper, pissed off. "We asked for TEN minutes. Ten. And he still―"
The stairs creak again, and Will returns, with his cell phone, and says, "They asked for visual proof. Would you mind doing that again?"
Slim blinks, his stare flatter than a preteen's chest, and I look at the cell phone's eye with disgust. Knowing Will, he could jokingly send any fake incriminating pictures to my boyfriend, for the laughs.
And then I could watch a joke ruin the trust between Gabe and I.
Harshly, I say, "No." I'm not stupid, and I'm not going to let a gag get out of hand.
Disappointed, Will retreats, whining about how un-game we are. Slim and I, without replying, move away towards the couches, and we're finally left alone.
We talk for some five or ten minutes before Ban comes upstairs. He doesn't step into the room; he just nods at me and whispers, "When you're ready, Val, vamos time."
"Ok," I whisper back. "Thanks. I'll be right there."
"No rush," Ban nods, and the difference in respect for Slim and I is notable. "You haven't talked in a while. I'll just say bye to everyone now."
I stand, and Slim and I, agreeing to continue our conversation later, wrap up our talk with a summary of things we still need to discuss... And as we head towards the stairs, come face to face with Will, again.
He says, coolly, "Hey, I heard you were going, so I came to say bye."
I blink. "I was going to go back downstairs to say bye to everyone anyway."
"Oh." Will doesn't seem to realise the logic of this statement. I smile tightly and move past him, to the basement, and tell everyone I'm leaving with Ban.
The immense relief of escaping Will's clutches was like the fresh night air. Ban and I discussed our respective couples on the 45 minutes drive home, and I went to sleep.
So what d'you do last night?
Slim's b-day. It was weird to hang out in the basement rather than around the campfire like in the summer.
But it was alright. There just was Will who made things awkward...
lol What'd Will do?
I don't know how to explain it, really... It's like, he was trying too hard to fit into the gang, too fast. I mean, we know each other since elementary school, and high school, and cegep... They're strong bonds that you can't create in one night. Kelly was alright, but Will tried too hard. I mean, Slim and I, we were catching up and Will never stopped interrupting. We couldn't even talk for ten minutes. ... So what are you up to?
Yesterday or today?
Both, unless it's top secret because the world has been threatened by nuclear missiles which you've managed to deactivate at the last second.
Oh, no... sadly it was a lot less epic, but still. I'm cooking right now. Last night I screamed at my sister.
What happened?
As usual. She lacked tact to a shocking level. It was Grandpa's birthday, and we called him from Mom's house because her phone deal costs practically nothing and we can call all the way in Gaspesia for free. He was really happy. And then I suggested we should also, while we were there, call Aunt Marlene, because she's the one who sent me the shirt you thought fit me so well last Wednesday, and I wanted to say thanks, and besides, when she's not going on and on about the Lord, she's cool. But then the sister freaks out, she's like "Hell no, ONE per evening is MORE than enough! I'm not calling anyone else!"
0_0
And she says it like, "one sack of shit per evening", you know? I mean, yeah, sometimes talking to your grandparents can be awkward, but I mean, Marlene's pretty chill most of the time. And Mom was clearly holding back her comments on my sister's behaviour, but I was openly D8
Seriously... I mean, even if you don't feel like it, you make an effort. Family's still family.
Well duh, yeah, I mean, you control yourself and shut your trap, right? Anyway, I called Marlene in the end, but she wasn't there so I left a message of thanks and that was it. But when I drove Laurie and a friend home, I don't know what they were talking about but suddenly Laurie cries out, "YEAH, OR ELSE GABE WILL SAY I LACKED TACT AGAIN HAHAHA".
Oopsies.
And I say, "Yeah... like tonight." And she asks what I'm talking about, so I reply, "Duh, like tonight with Marlene, you thickhead." And she starts yelling at me and losing bolts. At this point we're in the car, remember. I just looked at her... I was VERY pissed. And I said in Gaspesian words to make sure she understands, " 'kay, listen ap, ya. Y'ain't scarin' meh with y'ur yowlin'. So ya shut it live, right, or ah drop ya on the si'e of highwa' twen'y and ya fuckin' walk y'ur way 'ome." So she shut the fuck up. Martinne was really uncomfortable... Whoops.
It's funny slash scary how you speak with the Gaspesian accent when you're pissed...
Heck. She knows I never get angry, and I was more than pissed. J'étais en tabarnak. I can't freaking believe that on top of thinking her behaviour is acceptable she goes and screams at me for reprimanding her about it. Everyone else is so scared of her anger fits they won't dare to tell her, lest she bite their heads off. Anyway.
I guess you'll have to handle that yourself, then... Tough job being her brother, innit?
Whatever. I slept on it and I'm alright now... I just woke up. :p Food's gonna be godly noodles from paradise itself. FOOOODDDZZZ
OM NOM NOM NOM
Ahaha so cute... ♥
Oh, how comforting it is for me, my love, that you will not abandon me for a noodle-maker, in spite of your great love of noodles.
Hm... but the noodles... they're so delicious... Am I allowed to seduce the noodle-makers to steal their noodles and run off into the sunset with the delectable delicacies?
I dunno. Define seduce. Are we talking about making-out or merely a charming smile?
No, I'd make them envision a distant possibility. AND THEN I'D TAKE TEH NOODALS AND RUN AWAY. MWAHAHAHAHA
That is so ingenious.
Oh yes. It's why I'm on this earth. God wants me to steal noodles. Because he likes it and manipulation makes my god laugh.
LOL He's right to entrust you with this quest. You're the best for the task. He created you handsome and blond to seduce noodle-makers.
D'you think noodle-makers prefer blonds?
Yes, because you remind them of the colour of the products they so dearly love creating.
Ahahaha they think they've found the noodle man of their dreams!
Exactly. Now, in my case, I've been created to seduce chocolatiers.
:o I want chocolate too! ... Which is why I've seduced the Swiss.
Yes, because you remind him of the cheese he enjoys so much.
One day they'll devour me, Val, I swear! I've always known it, but I love chocolate so much that I throw myself in the wolves' den more than I should...
Your courage and daring will make you a hero amongst chocolate lovers.
Such pride... Hey, I've decided to play one Tetris game and I got FIVE purple 'L's in a row, Val! FIVE.
It's a conspiracy.
As surely as the fact that the Earth is the centre of the universe!
Actually, this Tetris game proves the fact.
Who do you think orchestrated it?
The evil god who opposes all good and beautiful things in the world, like noodles and chocolate and weekends.
Softie?
No, the Swiss' cat is not an evil god. He is the guardian of all good and beautiful things.
Not really. I mean, he's a pretty chaotic god. When he blinks someone dies, and when he frowns a tsunami occurs on the other side of the globe...
He isn't chaotic... It's just that we mere mortals don't understand his work.
Alright, then the only other suspects are the Russians from Basshunter's Russia Privjet.
... I love you.
I love your dementia.
Excuse me, you are the most demented of us two.
Ahahaha I tried to explain that to the Swiss last night. He was furious :p I love when he's jokingly furious but it's partly serious.
What was he furious against?
Bah. He was mumbling and grumbling and ranting and raving as usual, and out of the blue he asks, "So, what does Val have that's so special?" And I was taken a little short because I hadn't really been paying attention, because he'd been saying random stuff for like, an hour. And I explained that you were like me. And he didn't understand. So I told him we have the same sort of dementia, a different kind from the one I have with him, and it's rare to find another person who has like a mush delirium in their head when you thought you were alone. And he started sulking.
Well, I like being insane with you. You're the only one who seems to think of the same stupid shit that I do. But... is the Swiss really jealous or is he kidding?
Bah. He reminds me of my ex. He makes jokes but then he suddenly takes them seriously, and then not... Like, he's been saying, "OH SRY I'M NOT AS FUNNY AS VAL!!!"
I'm the poison that's destroying your couple. :p
Yeah. Right. Exactly.
So, you have work to finish?
Yeah; I'll leave in a moment. I just need to finish my lunch.
Alright. I love you. ♥ I'll catch you later. Kisses!!!
I'm in love with you, Val. :) You're adorable. ♥ ♥ ♥
I know. I know. ;)
Love,
Val
Will, it turns out, doesn't fit too well with PB and Anthony, who tend to lean towards jocular extravaganza rather than Will's geeky conversations on teleportation and screenwriting. And, considering we were at a party, I'd much rather watch PB and Anthony play pool than discuss the ethical and physical repercussions of bending the space-time continuum. I looked at Slim for help, but he was engaged in an animated conversation about the risks of anal sex with Ban and Rick (boys will be boys), and Melanie knew better than to get involved in my rescue.
So, when I finally got away, I stayed away. Will scares me sometimes. He's not a bad guy, but his efforts to fit in with what he considers to be the 'cool crowd' (that, apparently, is us) are a bit... much, sometimes.
I found refuge next to Anick and Melanie, and we discussed our future ambitions with Slim and Ban. Melanie and I will both attend the Lit bachelor's at UQAM next fall (we got our acceptance letters on March 2nd; the applications end on Feb 28th, if that can tell you anything about the speedy news). Anick is torn between cinema at U of M, or sociology at UQAM. Gabriel has applied, along with Slim, in cinema at UQAM, but their back-up plans are, respectively, cinema at U of M and post-elementary education.
Yeah, I know! Slim, a teacher? Who'd have thought?
Ban, on his part, has also applied at UQAM in post-elementary education. Rick's headed into psychology, and PB is continuing his Publicity and Marketing program at UQAM instead of going to Québec city like he did last year.
Things are going good.
Towards the end of the evening, after a few hours of dodging Anthony's cheap come-ons (that he doesn't actually mean), laughing at PB's antics, and avoiding Will's ensaring talk of temporal improbabilities, I wound up sitting on the floor next to Slim, and asking him how the life was going.
He shrugged, and said, "It's actually... um..." At this point I turned my head and saw that Will had force-seated himself between me and Anick, who had been on my other side. I turned back to Slim and he cheerfully asked, "Hey. You know what? We should go for a little walk."
I instantly agreed, because Will was already beginning to tell me about how he wasn't flexible in the least, and while his cardio was good, he could hardly stretch his legs.
Don't get me wrong. I appreciate the guy. It's just... he can be so invasive.
So Slim and I stood, as one, and headed towards the stairs. Will, not getting the hint, called out, "Hey, where do you two think you're going?"
Everyone else, who was sitting around and chatting, barely even glanced at us until Will called out. It's not like Slim and I haven't had asides during parties before. Nobody's ever made a case of it. We're best friends. It happens. Anthony and Melanie have the same thing.
"They're going to fuck each others' brains out," Anthony flatly said, and everyone, because they knew it wasn't true, agreed wholeheartedly.
PB, playing with his cue while he waited for Ban to make his move on the pool table, hardly looked up from the game and said, "Use a condom, kids."
"Vaaal," Will said, realising everything was a joke but not getting the hint to let it go, "you have a boyfriend! Do you want me to tell Gabe about this?"
Gabe, by the way, wasn't there because he doesn't really care for Slim. He knows I used to have a crush on him and he thinks Slim is 1. an idiot for not thinking I was good enough for him, and 2. a brilliant man for leaving me single and ready for Gabe to date, but especially that Slim doesn't treat me as well as I deserve. Because he'll never admit it, but he prefers to stay away from Slim rather than feel jealousy he knows he doesn't need to feel.
I can't say I blame him. We're both juggling the exclusivity of our relationship with the fact that we both have more friends of the opposite sex in our immediate surroundings than anything else. Feelings of jealousy are part of our personalities, as is the conviction that a person should be free to have the friends they wish to have, even when in a relationship. It's a constant tug-o-war between our possessiveness and our wish for the other to have some breathing space.
Anyway. Will implying he'd exaggerate facts, even as a joke, to Gabe about Slim and I, is just about the last sort of insiduous poison I need.
Slim, getting the noxious radiations from me, just glanced back at Will and said, "A ten minute talk is hardly enough to warrant threats of breaking a couple up."
Will, duly chastened, just laughed and returned to talking with Anick, who looked positively bored.
I didn't reply, and just followed Slim upstairs.
The first thing he said, once we were in the silence of the living room, was, "Goddamn, Will hasn't shut up all evening."
We immediately start agreeing that Will really needs to take things easy, that he can't expect to fit in like an old mate with our group whose members have known each other for years.
"Did you see his talk of teleportation?" I whisper, afflicted. "I don't mind that talk in school, when discussing settings and plots, but I mean, come on..."
"I know," Slim wisely says. "I drove him here." And he nods painfully, with a half-smile. "And frankly, I'm sleeping here. I don't want him to sleep at my place again."
"He insulted everything about me last Tuesday when he came to my house for the projects," I explain, frustrated. "He insulted my house, he compared it to yours, he insulted my basement's setup, he insulted me by saying 'yeah... clearly you don't receive many people here, do you?' I mean, no, I don't. Because I don't like company in my house. And then, when Gabe and I were having lunch with him, he started insulting my clothes in front of my boyfriend. I was wearing a t-shirt. It wasn't dressy enough for Will."
Slim frowns. "What the―"
"I mean, Gabe thinks my wearing plain t-shirts is sexier because it's so casual and I'm more comfortable in them. But Will just insults them, saying I should make an effort. I mean, excuse me, I'm not dating him, I'm dating Gabe, and I'm going to wear what I damn well please!"
"Seriously, and by the way, t-shirts ARE attractive. I mean, I feel kinda bad about Anthony and PB mocking him a little, but at the same time, it IS kinda annoying."
At this point, we hear footsteps in the stairs, and Will appears, looking genial and curious. Slim and I clam up, and wait for him to say something.
"So, what are you two up to?" He asks.
"Um. Catching up," I say, and it was true. "We haven't talked one on one in a long time."
This is followed by another expectant pause. Will clearly isn't getting the hint. He says, "Well, I was just wondering how long your chat was going to be, because leaving people like that is really rude."
"They can handle themselves for ten minutes," I say, now exasperated.
"Maybe. So. What are you talking about?"
"Stuff," I say, and by the way, the shorter my answers get, the more annoyed I am.
Will motions between himself and me, then between himself and Slim, and says, "Come on, guys, you can tell me. We're a trio, right?"
"Actually," Slim says, "I've known Val for a long time, and we're kinda just in need of some alone talking." Read: No, we are not a trio. We are a duo. And you're not part of it.
And, to rid ourselves of him faster, I say, passing an arm around Slim's waist, "Yeah. Slim and I have something special."
Slim starts to waggle his tongue at me, and, as Will laughs, I kneel before Slim and he undoes his belt. Will, laughing louder, suddenly cries, "Okay, folks, wait until I'm out of here!" And, as we expected, he heads back downstairs. Slim reties his belt and I stand again, exasperated. Downstairs, Will is loudly retelling what he witnessed, and Slim and I listen as Anthony and PB send him another couple of annoyed let-it-be undertones. No one would honestly believe that Slim and I did anything, but Will had been so scandalized by the sexual comments everyone makes to the others that he naturally would freak out.
"See that?" I whisper, pissed off. "We asked for TEN minutes. Ten. And he still―"
The stairs creak again, and Will returns, with his cell phone, and says, "They asked for visual proof. Would you mind doing that again?"
Slim blinks, his stare flatter than a preteen's chest, and I look at the cell phone's eye with disgust. Knowing Will, he could jokingly send any fake incriminating pictures to my boyfriend, for the laughs.
And then I could watch a joke ruin the trust between Gabe and I.
Harshly, I say, "No." I'm not stupid, and I'm not going to let a gag get out of hand.
Disappointed, Will retreats, whining about how un-game we are. Slim and I, without replying, move away towards the couches, and we're finally left alone.
We talk for some five or ten minutes before Ban comes upstairs. He doesn't step into the room; he just nods at me and whispers, "When you're ready, Val, vamos time."
"Ok," I whisper back. "Thanks. I'll be right there."
"No rush," Ban nods, and the difference in respect for Slim and I is notable. "You haven't talked in a while. I'll just say bye to everyone now."
I stand, and Slim and I, agreeing to continue our conversation later, wrap up our talk with a summary of things we still need to discuss... And as we head towards the stairs, come face to face with Will, again.
He says, coolly, "Hey, I heard you were going, so I came to say bye."
I blink. "I was going to go back downstairs to say bye to everyone anyway."
"Oh." Will doesn't seem to realise the logic of this statement. I smile tightly and move past him, to the basement, and tell everyone I'm leaving with Ban.
The immense relief of escaping Will's clutches was like the fresh night air. Ban and I discussed our respective couples on the 45 minutes drive home, and I went to sleep.
So what d'you do last night?
Slim's b-day. It was weird to hang out in the basement rather than around the campfire like in the summer.
But it was alright. There just was Will who made things awkward...
lol What'd Will do?
I don't know how to explain it, really... It's like, he was trying too hard to fit into the gang, too fast. I mean, we know each other since elementary school, and high school, and cegep... They're strong bonds that you can't create in one night. Kelly was alright, but Will tried too hard. I mean, Slim and I, we were catching up and Will never stopped interrupting. We couldn't even talk for ten minutes. ... So what are you up to?
Yesterday or today?
Both, unless it's top secret because the world has been threatened by nuclear missiles which you've managed to deactivate at the last second.
Oh, no... sadly it was a lot less epic, but still. I'm cooking right now. Last night I screamed at my sister.
What happened?
As usual. She lacked tact to a shocking level. It was Grandpa's birthday, and we called him from Mom's house because her phone deal costs practically nothing and we can call all the way in Gaspesia for free. He was really happy. And then I suggested we should also, while we were there, call Aunt Marlene, because she's the one who sent me the shirt you thought fit me so well last Wednesday, and I wanted to say thanks, and besides, when she's not going on and on about the Lord, she's cool. But then the sister freaks out, she's like "Hell no, ONE per evening is MORE than enough! I'm not calling anyone else!"
0_0
And she says it like, "one sack of shit per evening", you know? I mean, yeah, sometimes talking to your grandparents can be awkward, but I mean, Marlene's pretty chill most of the time. And Mom was clearly holding back her comments on my sister's behaviour, but I was openly D8
Seriously... I mean, even if you don't feel like it, you make an effort. Family's still family.
Well duh, yeah, I mean, you control yourself and shut your trap, right? Anyway, I called Marlene in the end, but she wasn't there so I left a message of thanks and that was it. But when I drove Laurie and a friend home, I don't know what they were talking about but suddenly Laurie cries out, "YEAH, OR ELSE GABE WILL SAY I LACKED TACT AGAIN HAHAHA".
Oopsies.
And I say, "Yeah... like tonight." And she asks what I'm talking about, so I reply, "Duh, like tonight with Marlene, you thickhead." And she starts yelling at me and losing bolts. At this point we're in the car, remember. I just looked at her... I was VERY pissed. And I said in Gaspesian words to make sure she understands, " 'kay, listen ap, ya. Y'ain't scarin' meh with y'ur yowlin'. So ya shut it live, right, or ah drop ya on the si'e of highwa' twen'y and ya fuckin' walk y'ur way 'ome." So she shut the fuck up. Martinne was really uncomfortable... Whoops.
It's funny slash scary how you speak with the Gaspesian accent when you're pissed...
Heck. She knows I never get angry, and I was more than pissed. J'étais en tabarnak. I can't freaking believe that on top of thinking her behaviour is acceptable she goes and screams at me for reprimanding her about it. Everyone else is so scared of her anger fits they won't dare to tell her, lest she bite their heads off. Anyway.
I guess you'll have to handle that yourself, then... Tough job being her brother, innit?
Whatever. I slept on it and I'm alright now... I just woke up. :p Food's gonna be godly noodles from paradise itself. FOOOODDDZZZ
OM NOM NOM NOM
Ahaha so cute... ♥
Oh, how comforting it is for me, my love, that you will not abandon me for a noodle-maker, in spite of your great love of noodles.
Hm... but the noodles... they're so delicious... Am I allowed to seduce the noodle-makers to steal their noodles and run off into the sunset with the delectable delicacies?
I dunno. Define seduce. Are we talking about making-out or merely a charming smile?
No, I'd make them envision a distant possibility. AND THEN I'D TAKE TEH NOODALS AND RUN AWAY. MWAHAHAHAHA
That is so ingenious.
Oh yes. It's why I'm on this earth. God wants me to steal noodles. Because he likes it and manipulation makes my god laugh.
LOL He's right to entrust you with this quest. You're the best for the task. He created you handsome and blond to seduce noodle-makers.
D'you think noodle-makers prefer blonds?
Yes, because you remind them of the colour of the products they so dearly love creating.
Ahahaha they think they've found the noodle man of their dreams!
Exactly. Now, in my case, I've been created to seduce chocolatiers.
:o I want chocolate too! ... Which is why I've seduced the Swiss.
Yes, because you remind him of the cheese he enjoys so much.
One day they'll devour me, Val, I swear! I've always known it, but I love chocolate so much that I throw myself in the wolves' den more than I should...
Your courage and daring will make you a hero amongst chocolate lovers.
Such pride... Hey, I've decided to play one Tetris game and I got FIVE purple 'L's in a row, Val! FIVE.
It's a conspiracy.
As surely as the fact that the Earth is the centre of the universe!
Actually, this Tetris game proves the fact.
Who do you think orchestrated it?
The evil god who opposes all good and beautiful things in the world, like noodles and chocolate and weekends.
Softie?
No, the Swiss' cat is not an evil god. He is the guardian of all good and beautiful things.
Not really. I mean, he's a pretty chaotic god. When he blinks someone dies, and when he frowns a tsunami occurs on the other side of the globe...
He isn't chaotic... It's just that we mere mortals don't understand his work.
Alright, then the only other suspects are the Russians from Basshunter's Russia Privjet.
... I love you.
I love your dementia.
Excuse me, you are the most demented of us two.
Ahahaha I tried to explain that to the Swiss last night. He was furious :p I love when he's jokingly furious but it's partly serious.
What was he furious against?
Bah. He was mumbling and grumbling and ranting and raving as usual, and out of the blue he asks, "So, what does Val have that's so special?" And I was taken a little short because I hadn't really been paying attention, because he'd been saying random stuff for like, an hour. And I explained that you were like me. And he didn't understand. So I told him we have the same sort of dementia, a different kind from the one I have with him, and it's rare to find another person who has like a mush delirium in their head when you thought you were alone. And he started sulking.
Well, I like being insane with you. You're the only one who seems to think of the same stupid shit that I do. But... is the Swiss really jealous or is he kidding?
Bah. He reminds me of my ex. He makes jokes but then he suddenly takes them seriously, and then not... Like, he's been saying, "OH SRY I'M NOT AS FUNNY AS VAL!!!"
I'm the poison that's destroying your couple. :p
Yeah. Right. Exactly.
So, you have work to finish?
Yeah; I'll leave in a moment. I just need to finish my lunch.
Alright. I love you. ♥ I'll catch you later. Kisses!!!
I'm in love with you, Val. :) You're adorable. ♥ ♥ ♥
I know. I know. ;)
Love,
Val
Friday, February 20, 2009
Okay, okay
As I write this I'm sitting in university waiting for Gabe to call me. We're going to Will's place tonight. Will, in case, I didn't mention him, is the newest addition to my friends. He's insane, a total geek, and he's about as random as the rest of us, in a very talkative and happy package. We're going for a relaxed video-viewing evening, with the possible inclusion of beer into the equation. I don't know. Frankly I'm not up for drinking these days, but you know how it goes.
Seriously. One glass and I'm wasted. I have SO lost my drinking habits.
... I can sense the accusing stares. Okay, I'm aware I haven't written in a while. Those who haven't given up on me (I got a message a while ago about a poke and a question like "are you dead?" which sort of reminded me I used to have time, a long time ago) will hopefully remember the following facts about me:
1. I'm in university;
2. I have a boyfriend;
3. And time-consuming friends/work/school projects.
Also, I am stressed.
Stress, it turns out, can strike even when you're doing just fine. To be quite frank, nothing in my life is going wrong these days. I have a wonderful, hilarious, completely adorable-slash-handsome boyfriend who looks at me with more love than I could ever write about, I have a steady almost-no-sweat income of 800$ a month, I'm studying screenwriting, and, starting next year (provided my request is accepted) I'll be doing a bachelor's in literature, more specifically, the creation of.
And yet, I'm stressed.
It could be that I'm nervous about being accepted into the lit program (although, with my current grades, I should hope it's not an issue), or simply that I don't remember the last time I had an actual day off. That is, I work in an office furniture warehouse weekends and Wednesdays, and the rest of the time I'm in school, or on the bus, or the metro, or somewhere in between trying to pull together five or six screenplays in time to view the movies we're required to take notes on (hard job? Not really, but time consuming).
The stress could also come from the fact that I have deadlines to respect, although I've dealt with those all my life, so why should they be stressful? Or from the fact that Gabe is struggling to pay his apartment in Verdun, gas for his car, studies, food, and, since yesterday, 650$ worth of car repairs, mostly because he's got a broken headlight, worn-out brakes and a flat tire.
If any of you believe I'm an expense, believe me, the only expense he makes for me is gasoline. I pay for my food, I pay for my drink, and I split expenses with him when necessary.
Thankfully, Gabe has got a new job in Verdun that should help him pay for life's expenses.
Ah, Gabe just called. His car is fixed. He's going to call me again when he arrives in Verdun from Vaudreuil, and then again when he makes it to the Berri-UQAM metro station.
The upside of this university, it turns out, is that you have access to everything without ever needing to step outside. Right now big flurries of white snow are blowing all over. We got a snowstorm two days ago, after some warm temperature had made a lot of the white stuff melt. To my left is a big bay window with a view on St-Catherine street, and a church that was modified into another one of UQAM's pavillions. This pavillion too was a church once. On the right of the bay window is the grey stone of the arches; like an alien gothic revival structure in an ugly modern brick building. People dredge by, pretending they're not windblown. It's an oddly beautiful day: the sky is snow-coloured and the trees are frosted with sugar.
Slim was supposed to be at Will's tonight. He called this morning to say he wasn't going to be there after all, claiming he didn't want to talk about it. Distance has grown between us, but mostly because I'm not available to do things anymore. Slim has no job; I have so little time for myself that whatever time I DO have, I spend with Gabe.
You would too, if you noticed the difference in the way the two of them treat me. Slim, quite frankly, only considers me as an ear to talk to, and, occasionally, an advisor. Gabe, on his part, considers me a friend, a lover, a companion. Where Slim feeds me his stories, I have few opportunities to be heard as well. By contrast, things with Gabe are balanced and natural.
Speaking of which, have I mentioned how much I love him?
Let me put it this way. All those romance oneshots I wrote (while single and completely ignorant) are a mere shadow. I could not describe the chemistry that sparks between two like-minded people even if I tried. For that, I wish to express my apologies: all the things I wrote are outdated, superficial and naive. I couldn't know until I dared to ask Gabe for a kiss.
And that, right above, sounded like I'm wearing rose-tinted glasses, except that when you spend half your time, even after three months (speaking of which, our three month anniversary was on Valentine's day, by sheer coincidence) finding out new points you have in common, and completing each other's sentences, and laughing at the same times, you sort of realise there's something there that goes beyond mere fantasy. It's concrete, and it happens for real.
For real, you hear me?
Now let me ask you this. How could I ever presume to write more romance oneshots? I would never be pleased; I'd want it to be true to reality, that wonderful reality that I wish everyone to encounter. But I can't. I don't have what it takes. I don't think anyone does. I can write passion and delirium just fine. I can write embarrassment and anxiety. I can write about feelings of love and companionship. Except there's more. More that I CAN'T write, because it's tiny, in those little infinitely small moments where a look, a touch, a smile happens that says more than words could.
Soooo I've recycled myself. These days I write dystopian original fiction, with feedback from Will. Turns out that insane bastard has enough imagination to feed any uninspired weirdo. It's practical to bounce ideas off him, if exhausting.
I'm also working on a reaction oneshot for the latest Prince of Persia, which I finished two weeks ago and found brilliantly executed. If I finally get the time to keep working on it, I'll probably release it on ff.net.
What else is there to say? Am I slowing down with the online publications? Yes. I won't hide from it. My writing time is spent on school projects and original fiction, which I'm keeping in store... for stores, maybe, one day. As you can also tell, my blogging is moving along at a less than sluggish pace, for the same reasons. What is there for me to announce that will be interesting anyway? I'm at this point in the story where the last chapter has passed and the girl got the guy and everything is going good. I'm not even looking at a sequel in which things get crappy again. I hope that day doesn't come.
How can I sound dramatic and insane when there's nothing to warrant it? I know it sounds depressing but no one wants to hear about happy people. Nothing ever happens to them. In fact, as Eva, Slim and some other animated folk (*cough* Josie *cough*) have let me know, talking about my happiness tends to make people either jealous or ticked off. Mostly because they're aware of how they don't have the same thing I do.
And you know what? That anger is justified. I used to be one of them.
"That's ridiculous," Will told me the other day. "With anyone else but you and Gabe―" Will adores Gabe; the two get along like peas in a pod― "I'd feel frustrated, and acutely aware of my singledom. But how can I resent the two of you when you kiss in front of us? You're too beautiful together to resent."
Slim told me something along those lines, although he did warn me: "Yes. You match. It's amazing how you say the same things at the same time in random circumstances. You just... fit. But goddamn, Val, I'll admit I'm jealous. I want that too."
I wish everyone could find themselves a Gabe. That way I could talk freely about how disgustingly happy he makes me!
On that note, I have to get back to homework. Maybe I'll grab a snack, too. I'm getting hungry.
To all who remain, I should hope I'll post again before another two months have passed. 0.0
Love,
Val
Seriously. One glass and I'm wasted. I have SO lost my drinking habits.
... I can sense the accusing stares. Okay, I'm aware I haven't written in a while. Those who haven't given up on me (I got a message a while ago about a poke and a question like "are you dead?" which sort of reminded me I used to have time, a long time ago) will hopefully remember the following facts about me:
1. I'm in university;
2. I have a boyfriend;
3. And time-consuming friends/work/school projects.
Also, I am stressed.
Stress, it turns out, can strike even when you're doing just fine. To be quite frank, nothing in my life is going wrong these days. I have a wonderful, hilarious, completely adorable-slash-handsome boyfriend who looks at me with more love than I could ever write about, I have a steady almost-no-sweat income of 800$ a month, I'm studying screenwriting, and, starting next year (provided my request is accepted) I'll be doing a bachelor's in literature, more specifically, the creation of.
And yet, I'm stressed.
It could be that I'm nervous about being accepted into the lit program (although, with my current grades, I should hope it's not an issue), or simply that I don't remember the last time I had an actual day off. That is, I work in an office furniture warehouse weekends and Wednesdays, and the rest of the time I'm in school, or on the bus, or the metro, or somewhere in between trying to pull together five or six screenplays in time to view the movies we're required to take notes on (hard job? Not really, but time consuming).
The stress could also come from the fact that I have deadlines to respect, although I've dealt with those all my life, so why should they be stressful? Or from the fact that Gabe is struggling to pay his apartment in Verdun, gas for his car, studies, food, and, since yesterday, 650$ worth of car repairs, mostly because he's got a broken headlight, worn-out brakes and a flat tire.
If any of you believe I'm an expense, believe me, the only expense he makes for me is gasoline. I pay for my food, I pay for my drink, and I split expenses with him when necessary.
Thankfully, Gabe has got a new job in Verdun that should help him pay for life's expenses.
Ah, Gabe just called. His car is fixed. He's going to call me again when he arrives in Verdun from Vaudreuil, and then again when he makes it to the Berri-UQAM metro station.
The upside of this university, it turns out, is that you have access to everything without ever needing to step outside. Right now big flurries of white snow are blowing all over. We got a snowstorm two days ago, after some warm temperature had made a lot of the white stuff melt. To my left is a big bay window with a view on St-Catherine street, and a church that was modified into another one of UQAM's pavillions. This pavillion too was a church once. On the right of the bay window is the grey stone of the arches; like an alien gothic revival structure in an ugly modern brick building. People dredge by, pretending they're not windblown. It's an oddly beautiful day: the sky is snow-coloured and the trees are frosted with sugar.
Slim was supposed to be at Will's tonight. He called this morning to say he wasn't going to be there after all, claiming he didn't want to talk about it. Distance has grown between us, but mostly because I'm not available to do things anymore. Slim has no job; I have so little time for myself that whatever time I DO have, I spend with Gabe.
You would too, if you noticed the difference in the way the two of them treat me. Slim, quite frankly, only considers me as an ear to talk to, and, occasionally, an advisor. Gabe, on his part, considers me a friend, a lover, a companion. Where Slim feeds me his stories, I have few opportunities to be heard as well. By contrast, things with Gabe are balanced and natural.
Speaking of which, have I mentioned how much I love him?
Let me put it this way. All those romance oneshots I wrote (while single and completely ignorant) are a mere shadow. I could not describe the chemistry that sparks between two like-minded people even if I tried. For that, I wish to express my apologies: all the things I wrote are outdated, superficial and naive. I couldn't know until I dared to ask Gabe for a kiss.
And that, right above, sounded like I'm wearing rose-tinted glasses, except that when you spend half your time, even after three months (speaking of which, our three month anniversary was on Valentine's day, by sheer coincidence) finding out new points you have in common, and completing each other's sentences, and laughing at the same times, you sort of realise there's something there that goes beyond mere fantasy. It's concrete, and it happens for real.
For real, you hear me?
Now let me ask you this. How could I ever presume to write more romance oneshots? I would never be pleased; I'd want it to be true to reality, that wonderful reality that I wish everyone to encounter. But I can't. I don't have what it takes. I don't think anyone does. I can write passion and delirium just fine. I can write embarrassment and anxiety. I can write about feelings of love and companionship. Except there's more. More that I CAN'T write, because it's tiny, in those little infinitely small moments where a look, a touch, a smile happens that says more than words could.
Soooo I've recycled myself. These days I write dystopian original fiction, with feedback from Will. Turns out that insane bastard has enough imagination to feed any uninspired weirdo. It's practical to bounce ideas off him, if exhausting.
I'm also working on a reaction oneshot for the latest Prince of Persia, which I finished two weeks ago and found brilliantly executed. If I finally get the time to keep working on it, I'll probably release it on ff.net.
What else is there to say? Am I slowing down with the online publications? Yes. I won't hide from it. My writing time is spent on school projects and original fiction, which I'm keeping in store... for stores, maybe, one day. As you can also tell, my blogging is moving along at a less than sluggish pace, for the same reasons. What is there for me to announce that will be interesting anyway? I'm at this point in the story where the last chapter has passed and the girl got the guy and everything is going good. I'm not even looking at a sequel in which things get crappy again. I hope that day doesn't come.
How can I sound dramatic and insane when there's nothing to warrant it? I know it sounds depressing but no one wants to hear about happy people. Nothing ever happens to them. In fact, as Eva, Slim and some other animated folk (*cough* Josie *cough*) have let me know, talking about my happiness tends to make people either jealous or ticked off. Mostly because they're aware of how they don't have the same thing I do.
And you know what? That anger is justified. I used to be one of them.
"That's ridiculous," Will told me the other day. "With anyone else but you and Gabe―" Will adores Gabe; the two get along like peas in a pod― "I'd feel frustrated, and acutely aware of my singledom. But how can I resent the two of you when you kiss in front of us? You're too beautiful together to resent."
Slim told me something along those lines, although he did warn me: "Yes. You match. It's amazing how you say the same things at the same time in random circumstances. You just... fit. But goddamn, Val, I'll admit I'm jealous. I want that too."
I wish everyone could find themselves a Gabe. That way I could talk freely about how disgustingly happy he makes me!
On that note, I have to get back to homework. Maybe I'll grab a snack, too. I'm getting hungry.
To all who remain, I should hope I'll post again before another two months have passed. 0.0
Love,
Val
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