Trying something different.
Life is busy. Vague details later, as well as housekeeping on the most recent voice posts I did last week.
I decided to start writing something and am going to try to add a little to it every day, be it a page or a paragraph or a sentence. I mean, this is my normal procedure, generally, but what I mean is I'll post the day's work here with minimal editing. I've had to sacrifice my usual writing time for other things the past month, and it is going to have to continue into next month, unfortunately.
But I had to write something, so I wrote this. I have a vague idea where it's going at the moment, but don't get too attached to it, as it's more of an exercise than anything else.
---
This is so fucking stupid.
Brick had spent the better part of two hours fighting this thought off. He was taking Him's advice. He was giving it a chance. He was respecting his elders. He was keeping his mouth shut and making chit chat and complimenting Mojo on the punch and listening to Fuzzy go on about his arthritis and refraining from rolling his eyes when the Amoeba Boys tried to corner him and tell him all about their big scheme and could he put in a word with his Father, please?
The situation was calling upon a level of patience possessed only by the most elite of religious deities. Brick, meanwhile, was only superhuman. And so the thought came on his sixteenth lap around the observatory while he nursed his oversweet punch and engaged in some evolved form of conversation dodgeball. No, there was no ball. Dodgeconversation was too long. Dodgeconvo? Dodgecon?
Stupid. That was the only word for it. The facade he had so carefully maintained for the entire evening had finally eroded. Now he could only suck down this treacly crap while he counted his steps like a fucking overqualified Fitbit, waiting for Him to make His big announcement and put Brick out of his misery.
Brick's shadow stretched along the wall to his left, melting into the gray mass that translated on his right to his brother trying to bum a joint off the Gangreen Gang. Butch didn't have to try hard. Of the three of them, puberty had hit Butch early and then apparently missed the memo to stop. His brother stuck out like a tank in a flock of green geese. Brick considered pulling his brother aside and knocking some sense into him-an hour ago he would have done so in a heartbeat-but he couldn't really be assed, now.
A smoke. That sounded good, actually.
Ace was only a step away and facing the other direction; Brick snuck the crushed box of cigs out of Ace's back pocket and palmed it, earning himself a smirk from Butch. Brick ignored him. He was approaching the front door, otherwise known as an Exit, otherwise known as Freedom-
His shadow shifted, and he swore.
“I heard that,” Him's figure said. Growled, really. Affectionless and brimming with fatherly displeasure, even through that haunting, sing-song lilt. Brick had spent years familiarizing himself with this tone.
“I was only going to have one,” he lied, glancing at Him's corporeal form, halfway across the room.
“Then you should have just asked.”
“He was in the middle of a conversation. I wasn't going to interrupt.”
“You may have one, and only one.” Brick watched the shadow of the cigarette box disappear into Him's. He rolled the single stick he had left in his mitt, then pocketed it, grumbling.
“Come now. You're bored already?”
“No, of course not.” Brick paced on, Him's shadow trailing behind. “I'm all about this. I'm having the time of my life. I can't remember having this much fun.”
“Okay-”
“I wish I had a cell phone with a texting plan just so I could not stand in the corner and spend the whole night texting. That's how not bored I am.”
“Yes Brick, thank you. You've made your point, you... utter teenager, you.”
“Mm, yes. Very insulting. Might as well continue the trend of the evening.”
“Ah. And suddenly, all is made clear.”
Brick edged past Sedusa. A long tendril of hair snaked up along his arm; he shook it off. She had been staring at him earlier and it had made him slightly uncomfortable.
“These things don't happen overnight, my boy. Have some patience.”
Brick's eye twitched. “Don't. Don't, with the 'p' words. But especially that one tonight.”
“You're walking in a room full of legends tonight.”
Brick shot a pointed look in the direction of the Amoeba Boys. Then at Fuzzy Lumpkins. Then at the Gangreen Gang. Then at-
“Enough, Brick. I use the term loosely.”
“'Legends,' huh? Right. Which is why you've thrown us all into Mojo's lab to form 'one unified front' against a trio of girls that these so-called legends have repeatedly failed at taking down.”
That shadow stilled. A chill shuddered down his spine, but Brick continued to walk.
“Do me a favor, Brick.” The song had gone out of Him's voice. “This sullen teenage thing? This 24/7 attitude problem? This phase? Let's skip all this nonsense and just go straight to the adult version of yourself that you so desperately want us to recognize. You walk around a party for two hours and act like you've earned the right to complain about the burden of your life. Oh, what a bore! What a test of endurance, of your patience! Woe is you!”
Brick walked on, his eye drawn to Him, who was moving to the center of the room. The crowd parted automatically for Him. He didn't acknowledge the gesture. His eyes were fixed on Brick.
“I'm not in the mood for this tonight. If you want anybody in this room to take you seriously, perhaps you should quit pouting in the shadows and acting like cynicism's going out of style. Oh, and next time you want to complain about being patient?”
Brick watched as the finest villains Townsville had to offer erupted into applause and Him took a bow.
“Don't breathe a word of it to your Father,” the voice hissed in his ear, drowning out the room's cheers. “Because true patience? Is parenting you.”
The shadow at Brick's feet warped, and then he was alone with his back pressed to the wall and an observatory full of mediocrity suffocating him.
This is so fucking stupid, he thought as Him launched into His speech. But he tried not to let it show.
---
Ugh God I am exhausted. To be continued tomorrow.
Originally posted at http://essbeejay.dreamwidth.org/114343.html.
I decided to start writing something and am going to try to add a little to it every day, be it a page or a paragraph or a sentence. I mean, this is my normal procedure, generally, but what I mean is I'll post the day's work here with minimal editing. I've had to sacrifice my usual writing time for other things the past month, and it is going to have to continue into next month, unfortunately.
But I had to write something, so I wrote this. I have a vague idea where it's going at the moment, but don't get too attached to it, as it's more of an exercise than anything else.
---
This is so fucking stupid.
Brick had spent the better part of two hours fighting this thought off. He was taking Him's advice. He was giving it a chance. He was respecting his elders. He was keeping his mouth shut and making chit chat and complimenting Mojo on the punch and listening to Fuzzy go on about his arthritis and refraining from rolling his eyes when the Amoeba Boys tried to corner him and tell him all about their big scheme and could he put in a word with his Father, please?
The situation was calling upon a level of patience possessed only by the most elite of religious deities. Brick, meanwhile, was only superhuman. And so the thought came on his sixteenth lap around the observatory while he nursed his oversweet punch and engaged in some evolved form of conversation dodgeball. No, there was no ball. Dodgeconversation was too long. Dodgeconvo? Dodgecon?
Stupid. That was the only word for it. The facade he had so carefully maintained for the entire evening had finally eroded. Now he could only suck down this treacly crap while he counted his steps like a fucking overqualified Fitbit, waiting for Him to make His big announcement and put Brick out of his misery.
Brick's shadow stretched along the wall to his left, melting into the gray mass that translated on his right to his brother trying to bum a joint off the Gangreen Gang. Butch didn't have to try hard. Of the three of them, puberty had hit Butch early and then apparently missed the memo to stop. His brother stuck out like a tank in a flock of green geese. Brick considered pulling his brother aside and knocking some sense into him-an hour ago he would have done so in a heartbeat-but he couldn't really be assed, now.
A smoke. That sounded good, actually.
Ace was only a step away and facing the other direction; Brick snuck the crushed box of cigs out of Ace's back pocket and palmed it, earning himself a smirk from Butch. Brick ignored him. He was approaching the front door, otherwise known as an Exit, otherwise known as Freedom-
His shadow shifted, and he swore.
“I heard that,” Him's figure said. Growled, really. Affectionless and brimming with fatherly displeasure, even through that haunting, sing-song lilt. Brick had spent years familiarizing himself with this tone.
“I was only going to have one,” he lied, glancing at Him's corporeal form, halfway across the room.
“Then you should have just asked.”
“He was in the middle of a conversation. I wasn't going to interrupt.”
“You may have one, and only one.” Brick watched the shadow of the cigarette box disappear into Him's. He rolled the single stick he had left in his mitt, then pocketed it, grumbling.
“Come now. You're bored already?”
“No, of course not.” Brick paced on, Him's shadow trailing behind. “I'm all about this. I'm having the time of my life. I can't remember having this much fun.”
“Okay-”
“I wish I had a cell phone with a texting plan just so I could not stand in the corner and spend the whole night texting. That's how not bored I am.”
“Yes Brick, thank you. You've made your point, you... utter teenager, you.”
“Mm, yes. Very insulting. Might as well continue the trend of the evening.”
“Ah. And suddenly, all is made clear.”
Brick edged past Sedusa. A long tendril of hair snaked up along his arm; he shook it off. She had been staring at him earlier and it had made him slightly uncomfortable.
“These things don't happen overnight, my boy. Have some patience.”
Brick's eye twitched. “Don't. Don't, with the 'p' words. But especially that one tonight.”
“You're walking in a room full of legends tonight.”
Brick shot a pointed look in the direction of the Amoeba Boys. Then at Fuzzy Lumpkins. Then at the Gangreen Gang. Then at-
“Enough, Brick. I use the term loosely.”
“'Legends,' huh? Right. Which is why you've thrown us all into Mojo's lab to form 'one unified front' against a trio of girls that these so-called legends have repeatedly failed at taking down.”
That shadow stilled. A chill shuddered down his spine, but Brick continued to walk.
“Do me a favor, Brick.” The song had gone out of Him's voice. “This sullen teenage thing? This 24/7 attitude problem? This phase? Let's skip all this nonsense and just go straight to the adult version of yourself that you so desperately want us to recognize. You walk around a party for two hours and act like you've earned the right to complain about the burden of your life. Oh, what a bore! What a test of endurance, of your patience! Woe is you!”
Brick walked on, his eye drawn to Him, who was moving to the center of the room. The crowd parted automatically for Him. He didn't acknowledge the gesture. His eyes were fixed on Brick.
“I'm not in the mood for this tonight. If you want anybody in this room to take you seriously, perhaps you should quit pouting in the shadows and acting like cynicism's going out of style. Oh, and next time you want to complain about being patient?”
Brick watched as the finest villains Townsville had to offer erupted into applause and Him took a bow.
“Don't breathe a word of it to your Father,” the voice hissed in his ear, drowning out the room's cheers. “Because true patience? Is parenting you.”
The shadow at Brick's feet warped, and then he was alone with his back pressed to the wall and an observatory full of mediocrity suffocating him.
This is so fucking stupid, he thought as Him launched into His speech. But he tried not to let it show.
---
Ugh God I am exhausted. To be continued tomorrow.
Originally posted at http://essbeejay.dreamwidth.org/114343.html.