(no subject)
Amazingly, I actually wrote something! Granted, it's meta, and mostly me being whiny and turning it into a half-hearted character study, but at least it's something, you know? I think it may have actually cleared out my writer's block a bit, too, thank God. Hopefully I'll post some better stuff soon, but for now you get internal conversations during housework with a ham-baking sociopath.
Somehow I’ve found myself in the kitchen, doing the dishes with none other than Benjamin Linus.
Because this is the metaverse, even the most mundane tasks tend to hold some sort of symbolic significance. I don’t feel much like analyzing the profound meanings in a washcloth at the moment, though, so I simply focus on getting a particularly stubborn spot of grease off the frying pan.
Ben is dutifully drying the plates I hand him, looking the very picture of benign domesticity. When he glances over at me, though, his unnerving blue eyes give him away. I’ve never been entirely comfortable around him as either a character or a human being, truth be told, so I continue scrubbing as if I haven’t noticed.
“There must be some reason why I’m here.”
Strange, I hadn’t expected him to be the one to speak first.
“Well, yeah,” I state after a moment. “I usually find myself in imaginary situations like this when I need advice.”
“I’m flattered, but wouldn’t Richard or John serve that purpose a little better?”
“Apparently not. You’re the one who showed up here, after all.”
Ben smirks faintly. “Well, then, ask away.”
“Okay. How do you deal with waiting?”
Perhaps that wasn’t the best question to begin with. Ben’s face is suddenly drawn and weary-looking, and he doesn’t answer immediately. I’m about to ask something different when he responds.
“Well, it looks like you came to the right person for advice after all.” He hesitates. “I’ve spent most of my life waiting for various opportunities, some of which…never really presented themselves. To answer your question, though, it depends entirely on what you’re waiting for.”
“It’s sort of a complex situation. I might be moving, or I might not, and I’m waiting for the decision to be made either way. The outcome of my life kind of hangs in the balance.”
“It doesn’t sound terribly complex to me. You either stay or you go.”
“Okay, true. Complexity and gravity aren’t the same thing. But what I mean is that it’s killing me, this constant state of not-knowing. And that’s the problem. How do you deal with waiting for this kind of news?”
Ben rubs at a newly-cleaned bowl, formulating a reply. “Well. John would probably say something about letting go and allowing fate take hold, but as I’ve told him before, destiny’s a fickle bitch, and I’m not inclined to trust it. Richard,” (here he smiles slightly) “might make some Zen quip about focusing on the present and being here now. Unfortunately not all of us have eternal patience and eternal life to fall back on.
“I would recommend two things for you: come up with a plan for either scenario, and find a way to occupy yourself until the time arrives. It’s as simple as that.”
I snort. “Easier said than done.”
“Not at all. Look, take an afternoon to figure out all the factors in both situations, and come up with a plan of action from there.”
“I wish I could be more like you sometimes.”
Now it’s Ben who lets out a soft snort of laughter. “For everyone’s sake, be grateful that you’re not.”
“No, no, I mean I wish I could think on my feet and come up with some flawless plan in a heartbeat like you do. Even when things go horribly wrong, you’ve always got a plan, and you’re always a step ahead because of it.”
“I always have a plan because I have to. I’d literally be as good as dead otherwise. It’s a matter of survival, El.”
Well. If that didn’t put things in perspective a little, I don’t know what would. I might be stuck in geographic limbo, but at least my health and well-being weren’t constantly on the line. Even with his elaborate schemes, Ben winds up beaten half to death far too frequently. I can’t say he doesn’t deserve it on occasion - he’s a liar and a killer, something I have to keep reminding myself of. Here, armed with nothing but a floral-print dishtowel, he looks entirely innocent, if not a little sad.
Unlike him, I can afford the luxury of not knowing what’s going to happen next. And for that I’m suddenly and deeply grateful.
The two of us stay quiet for the rest of dish-duty, lost in separate trains of thought. I finish washing the last plate and drain the soapy water from the sink.
“Ben?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks.”
“For the dishes, or for the advice?”
“A little of both.” I drape the washcloth over the side of the sink to dry. “C’mon, let’s go for a walk. It’s actually a beautiful day.”
Ben’s already at the back door, holding it open with an odd little smile. “Well, are you coming, or what?”
I follow him out into the sun.
So, yeah. I'm off for a walk now myself.
Somehow I’ve found myself in the kitchen, doing the dishes with none other than Benjamin Linus.
Because this is the metaverse, even the most mundane tasks tend to hold some sort of symbolic significance. I don’t feel much like analyzing the profound meanings in a washcloth at the moment, though, so I simply focus on getting a particularly stubborn spot of grease off the frying pan.
Ben is dutifully drying the plates I hand him, looking the very picture of benign domesticity. When he glances over at me, though, his unnerving blue eyes give him away. I’ve never been entirely comfortable around him as either a character or a human being, truth be told, so I continue scrubbing as if I haven’t noticed.
“There must be some reason why I’m here.”
Strange, I hadn’t expected him to be the one to speak first.
“Well, yeah,” I state after a moment. “I usually find myself in imaginary situations like this when I need advice.”
“I’m flattered, but wouldn’t Richard or John serve that purpose a little better?”
“Apparently not. You’re the one who showed up here, after all.”
Ben smirks faintly. “Well, then, ask away.”
“Okay. How do you deal with waiting?”
Perhaps that wasn’t the best question to begin with. Ben’s face is suddenly drawn and weary-looking, and he doesn’t answer immediately. I’m about to ask something different when he responds.
“Well, it looks like you came to the right person for advice after all.” He hesitates. “I’ve spent most of my life waiting for various opportunities, some of which…never really presented themselves. To answer your question, though, it depends entirely on what you’re waiting for.”
“It’s sort of a complex situation. I might be moving, or I might not, and I’m waiting for the decision to be made either way. The outcome of my life kind of hangs in the balance.”
“It doesn’t sound terribly complex to me. You either stay or you go.”
“Okay, true. Complexity and gravity aren’t the same thing. But what I mean is that it’s killing me, this constant state of not-knowing. And that’s the problem. How do you deal with waiting for this kind of news?”
Ben rubs at a newly-cleaned bowl, formulating a reply. “Well. John would probably say something about letting go and allowing fate take hold, but as I’ve told him before, destiny’s a fickle bitch, and I’m not inclined to trust it. Richard,” (here he smiles slightly) “might make some Zen quip about focusing on the present and being here now. Unfortunately not all of us have eternal patience and eternal life to fall back on.
“I would recommend two things for you: come up with a plan for either scenario, and find a way to occupy yourself until the time arrives. It’s as simple as that.”
I snort. “Easier said than done.”
“Not at all. Look, take an afternoon to figure out all the factors in both situations, and come up with a plan of action from there.”
“I wish I could be more like you sometimes.”
Now it’s Ben who lets out a soft snort of laughter. “For everyone’s sake, be grateful that you’re not.”
“No, no, I mean I wish I could think on my feet and come up with some flawless plan in a heartbeat like you do. Even when things go horribly wrong, you’ve always got a plan, and you’re always a step ahead because of it.”
“I always have a plan because I have to. I’d literally be as good as dead otherwise. It’s a matter of survival, El.”
Well. If that didn’t put things in perspective a little, I don’t know what would. I might be stuck in geographic limbo, but at least my health and well-being weren’t constantly on the line. Even with his elaborate schemes, Ben winds up beaten half to death far too frequently. I can’t say he doesn’t deserve it on occasion - he’s a liar and a killer, something I have to keep reminding myself of. Here, armed with nothing but a floral-print dishtowel, he looks entirely innocent, if not a little sad.
Unlike him, I can afford the luxury of not knowing what’s going to happen next. And for that I’m suddenly and deeply grateful.
The two of us stay quiet for the rest of dish-duty, lost in separate trains of thought. I finish washing the last plate and drain the soapy water from the sink.
“Ben?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks.”
“For the dishes, or for the advice?”
“A little of both.” I drape the washcloth over the side of the sink to dry. “C’mon, let’s go for a walk. It’s actually a beautiful day.”
Ben’s already at the back door, holding it open with an odd little smile. “Well, are you coming, or what?”
I follow him out into the sun.
So, yeah. I'm off for a walk now myself.