Someone has finally put this into words.
Of course, it's from the perspective of Spike Spiegel, but this is *exactly* why I will never watch the last few episodes of Bebop. Or Kenshin. And I never intended to watch the entire last disc of Firefly, either, but I caved on that because I remembered that the show had been cancelled so the writers had never given it a proper ending.
"But that wasn't what kept him from killing Vicious that night. He was not afraid to kill and he did not fear death. But there was one thing in this world that did scare Spike. There was one thing that shook him to his seemingly unflappable core. Spike Spiegel feared closure.
Spike was a purgatory kind of guy. He loved limbo and the lack of definition that came with it. He wasn't comfortable with committing himself fully to black or white, but he appreciated the gray, that hazy place between the rock and the hard place where his dreams weren't dead and gone but simply unrealized. It was the place where he had a future.
He just didn't know what it was.
And he loved not knowing. He thrived on not knowing. Because the second he knew for sure, than the story of his past would be over. His best friend would have turned on him, his lover would have deserted him and he himself would have abandoned the very people he cared for. If he cut his ties than the story would be finished. And he did not care for the ending.
So he clung to the What If's and the If Only's like a lifeline. He kept his past meandering about, waiting to strike whenever he got comfortable. He needed that uncertainty. He needed to keep it alive, gasping for breath on some sort of mental Euthanasia, because it was too much of himself to surrender.
Vicious, he knew, felt the same. He knew it because Vicious showed up tonight and he knew it because Spike himself was still breathing. He knew it because they were friends, and what are allies, really, then two men with a common enemy?"
Also, from the same story, during a flashback scene. I really really like this authoress, have I mentioned that? Despite the fact that she keeps putting song lyrics in her stories when they're not part of the story. If the characters can hear the song, fine, put it in, but not just for the readers. Still, at one point she had Julia sing the Chicken Soup Song, so I love her forever now.
"I think I've got some brains on my shirt," Spike suddenly noticed, obviously grossed out. "That just isn't right," he sighed as he tried to flick some sort of goo off his person without betraying his cool exterior.
"Merry Christmas," Julia suddenly blurted out, pulling a small package out of her jacket. Spike just looked at her like she had nine heads. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I meant to segue into that gracefully but the mention of gray matter officially killed all hope of that."
Goodbye.
"But that wasn't what kept him from killing Vicious that night. He was not afraid to kill and he did not fear death. But there was one thing in this world that did scare Spike. There was one thing that shook him to his seemingly unflappable core. Spike Spiegel feared closure.
Spike was a purgatory kind of guy. He loved limbo and the lack of definition that came with it. He wasn't comfortable with committing himself fully to black or white, but he appreciated the gray, that hazy place between the rock and the hard place where his dreams weren't dead and gone but simply unrealized. It was the place where he had a future.
He just didn't know what it was.
And he loved not knowing. He thrived on not knowing. Because the second he knew for sure, than the story of his past would be over. His best friend would have turned on him, his lover would have deserted him and he himself would have abandoned the very people he cared for. If he cut his ties than the story would be finished. And he did not care for the ending.
So he clung to the What If's and the If Only's like a lifeline. He kept his past meandering about, waiting to strike whenever he got comfortable. He needed that uncertainty. He needed to keep it alive, gasping for breath on some sort of mental Euthanasia, because it was too much of himself to surrender.
Vicious, he knew, felt the same. He knew it because Vicious showed up tonight and he knew it because Spike himself was still breathing. He knew it because they were friends, and what are allies, really, then two men with a common enemy?"
Also, from the same story, during a flashback scene. I really really like this authoress, have I mentioned that? Despite the fact that she keeps putting song lyrics in her stories when they're not part of the story. If the characters can hear the song, fine, put it in, but not just for the readers. Still, at one point she had Julia sing the Chicken Soup Song, so I love her forever now.
"I think I've got some brains on my shirt," Spike suddenly noticed, obviously grossed out. "That just isn't right," he sighed as he tried to flick some sort of goo off his person without betraying his cool exterior.
"Merry Christmas," Julia suddenly blurted out, pulling a small package out of her jacket. Spike just looked at her like she had nine heads. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I meant to segue into that gracefully but the mention of gray matter officially killed all hope of that."
Goodbye.