A/n: As you will easily be able to tell from this chapter (not to mention the delay for it), I have come down with a bad case of writers block. Though, now that I got through this chapter, it should be easier to writer.
Next chapter I promise actual noteworthy stuff with happen.
Disclaimer: Hint? I'm writing fanfiction.
Also, I'm looking for a beta still. Sorry for any major spelling errors. I'll try to go back and correct them soon. I'm also editing earlier chapters, too.
Chapter Nine: Filler and Plot
"Do not carry a spirit of contradiction, for it is to be freighted with stupidity and with peevishness, and your intelligence should plot against it; though it may well be the mark of mental genius to see objection, a wrangler about everything cannot." –Baltasar Gracian
- cut -
Uneventful weekends were the bane of her existence.
There was nothing to do but people-watch, there was no one to hang out with besides her new nerd—and he wasn't even a cool nerd!—and there was nothing to read because nothing decent existed yet.
It truly sucked at Whammy's House.
- cut -
Dear diary in my mind,
Here is yet another mundane filler entry containing pointless emo angst and—obviously—filler that I'm too paranoid to put onto paper.
I'm officially declaring myself an atheist out of spite for whatever god that sent me here. It's quite possible that I'm dead and this is my fangirl hell. Whammy's House may be cool, but the lack of super weeaboo neko moe desu makes my heart ache. Everything in life that I love has yet to exist. I'm pretty sure the concept of Blu-Ray hasn't even been thought of yet. I can't bring out my DS Lite for fear of creating a tear in that space/time thing, and for the same reason my iPod is in hiding—life without background music might as well not be worth living.
And one of the worst parts?
Pokémon games are actually difficult here.
It's like a whole new world. I just can't function.
And that's not even the half of it, Mental Diary that proves my decline to insanity. This W kid that's now my tutor won't leave me the hell alone. He keeps talking about bullshit I only want to hear from my darling husbendo/waifu, Edward Elric. When he says it, it just sounds like that Friday song. If Edward was saying it… Oh my…
Right now, the only thing I have to fill the void of lonely emo child emptiness is watching Beyond Birthday make out with girls from the roof. And even that simple joy has become corrupted. By him.
"And hydrogen is…"
"Why do you only talk about science?" Spade sighed, not sparing a glance at the blonde beside her. She was far too interested in watching B—true name; Beyond Birthday—through some binoculars she'd found in the lost and found earlier. Technically not stealing, right? "It's boring. You're boring me to death, W. I'm going to fall asleep and fall off the roof and die. You do realize how tragic that would be, wouldn't you? Despite being super duper brilliant, I am still only eleven years of age—just barely of age to be a decent witch… If I die now, who knows how the universe will become unsettled! Oh, the horror!"
Her monotone somehow had an underlying dramatic hint to it. Especially at the end of her longwinded speech.
Warren huffed indignantly. He couldn't stand the girl sometimes—actually, most of the time. Or all of the time.
"I'm supposed to be tutoring you, S." He said seriously. A small smile momentarily flashed across her lips—accompanied by a slightly mad giggle—before she grimaced and blanched. Warren had no interest in finding out what she was watching, and even less interest in what was inducing her strange reactions. "If you're not even going to try and focus on your studies, then I'm leaving!"
"Fine, then. Leave."
For some reason, the carefree way she said it made him unable to stand. Or perhaps it was his fear of falling. Either way, Warren found himself planted firmly in his seat despite his strong desire to flee—er, leave.
Noticing this, Spade smirked mischievously, obviously taking this as a sign to feel accomplished. When she gave him a teasing "I told you so, Wormykins," sort of look from the corner of her eye, he couldn't help but cringe away slightly in shame at his weakness. The brunette pouted ever so slightly, truly looking cute for a moment, before returning her attention to whatever entertainment those binoculars were providing her, as well as a bored expression.
After a moment, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "…You should really consider focusing on your studies more. There's no greater shame than arriving in the highest class and then immediately falling to the bottom, you know." He muttered bitterly, though seemed to be slowly letting it go.
"So it would seem." Spade hummed. "I will focus eventually, don't worry. Now's just not the time for that." She explained, before resuming what Warren had decided to classify as stalking.
A silence passed. It was all peaceful and actually nice for once.
And then Spade ruined it.
"My, I marvel at the ability of a girl who can so persistently tongue someone. I mean, really!" She exclaimed, the strange smile back on her face. It was eerily giddy, and resembled the smile of a complete maniac. "My tongue doesn't have the stamina to do all that work. Does yours, W?"
Warren's eyes widened and his face heated; what kind of question was that, anyways?
"What the heck are you watching?"
"B and that blonde he seems to be dating!" exclaimed the brunette, awe leaking through her tone. "This whole time they have been—how do you say it here? Snogging or something, right? Teenagers are so strange, but so interesting." Does this somehow explain the fascination people have with Jersey Shore? Ooh, when that show starts airing over here, I definitely need to do a social studies project on Snooki—!
"What are you, some perverted old man?"
"Y-you shouldn't spy on people!"
Spade looked at him now, gray eyes narrowed.
Who are you to order me around, blonde little worm? She bit back the words as she sat the goggles in her lap, sighing. "I wouldn't call it spying. I'm investigating. Y'know? Isn't investigating part of being a detective?" She feigned innocence as she spoke, internally wishing she could just push W off of the roof. The mere thought made her happy. She didn't like the way he scrutinized her. She'd long since deemed him to be a cynic.
…No, she wasn't sure what that was; it sounded bad though, didn't it?
"Well, yes, but you shouldn't spyon B of all people!" Warren gasped, snatching the binoculars from her. He could have sworn there was now a fire burning in her eyes. "It's not polite! He's our superior! Not to mention, a very good person… and our superior! Why on earth would you spy on B?"
Give a few years, hon. Nobody'll be thinking he's that good of a person after the LA murder case…
"Actually, I'm God. I'm superior to all of you. Your point is invalid, good sir!" She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and puffing out her cheeks.
Warren sighed, rather exasperated. "Of course you are. And stop faking a British accent, it's almost offensive. You're rather terrible at it."
Spade ignored him, snatching the binoculars back and observing again. "And now he's got a redhead all over him! How the hell did that happen?" She gasped, sounding on the verge of a tantrum now. "Thanks a lot, Wormy! You made me miss it with this pointless filler conversation! God, you must be the character that the author throws into the mix in the beginning chapters whenever they can't think of something better to write."
"…Filler? …Author? Since when were we a story?" The blonde deadpanned.
As usual, he didn't get what she was talking about. And for once, it wasn't just because she blabbered it all out in broken Hungarian.
"B's more interesting than you. He knows about Evangelion." Spade huffed, that annoying near-tantrum tone of hers from before still very present.
"Pardon me for not having an interest in that weird anime stuff—"
She cut him off with a particularly piercing glare. Never before had Spade felt such contempt for a person—not even the hate for her mother, the social workers, or Enoby Way could compare to this.
"I'm going to strip you of your confidence like a hunter strips muscle from bone."
Warren found his footing once again and was able to leave after that, the brunette still trying to murder him with glares even after he was long out of sight.
- Cut -
Without Warren's presence, Spade felt a lot freer. For some reason, with that boy around, everything just felt so cramped and stuffy—even her thoughts. He wasn't fun to be with like Allison, and he wasn't a total hottie, so she couldn't use hormones as an excuse to tolerate him. Warren irritated her so much, and she knew that if she wasn't careful she would just snap and push him off the roof or down some stairs or something. Does that make me a bad person? She wondered absently, twirling a strand of her hair.
Sighing, Spade stood and began the awkward walk to the exit.
"I wonder what to do about all of this," she mused to herself, abnormally chipper. "B is definitely a cool character, as far as minor ones go. His novel was fantastic, too! Hm… What would a fanfiction character do? Besides fuck the boy, of course." She was trying hard to avoid treading the Mary-Sue turf at this point, though some of the hilarity of doing so was kind of irresistible. "Seeing as how females are all over him, who knows what he might have… Then again, I think a relationship like ours would be would border on lolicon. Ooh, but lolicon is kind of hot… No, no, I'm honestly not interested in a sexual relationship or a romantic one—at all." Spade pouted a bit. "Though… Note to self! Get B's DNA so I can make clones of him in the future."
Yes, yes, that will be perfect!
Spade rolled her eyes subconsciously, opening the small door and carefully walking through.
"I'm basically just wandering around, creating pages of filler story." She mused. "So far it's all meaningless. There's no point to it. This is really a boring read, most likely. Hmph… This all feels likes it's missing something… But what?" She mumbled, blinking.
Spade suddenly paused as a thought hit her. "Oh! Of course! Why didn't I realize that before? Silly me."
It's missing an original plot!
- Cut -
It only took one long conversation with the voices in her head to figure out what she wanted to do. It took even less time to know how she wanted to begin it. She praised the confidence that her genius status gave her, smirking wickedly all the while and playing the appropriate background music to set the mood. She memorized the melody completely for future playback in her mind.
Everything that she needed was set up and ready. All that was needed was her opportunity.
Unfortunately, despite being in an anime—or manga, she noted—it seemed that Spade was not a main character type. That or whoever was planning her story wasn't too kind to her, circumstance-wise.
She actually had to look into things herself. Information did not just come to her casually. She wished she could have the same circumstances as the characters in Hell Girl did, but instead of overhearing cute girls talk about the devil's best website, she'd overhear information on a housemate that was practically a legend of some kind.
In the same way that information did not drop into her hands, timing seemed to be in everyone else's favor but her own.
(What does that mean, you ask? Spade mused to the audience she almost prayed did not exist. Well, we're talking about opportunity!)
Opportunities were not so easy to come by, it seemed; they did not just fall into place perfectly whenever she needed them. Her opportunity required a week of observation to acquire, and a lot of research as well.
Finally though, her opportunity came.
It was a sunny day after a heavy rain. Puddles of mud and water and nature-y goop were all around. Children sploshed around merrily and did things most people would find really cute.
An older boy who looked like the definition of an unhealthy pasty beast joined them, laughing and stumbling as he was hugged and tackled into the puddles.
From the swing-set, his friend watched, sucking absently at the pack of jam in his hand. A small smile was on his face. If one looked closely, they'd see how sad it was.
Ignoring the secretly heartbreaking mood, though, she made her move.
"It must be sad to know that A's going to die soon, huh?"
B seemed to pause momentarily, looking at the girl with the bag of marshmallows. She smiled cutely at him, bangs falling in her eyes and braids bouncing as she skipped to the swing beside him.
Clenching the bag between her teeth as she sat, Spade immediately set to twisting the swing around.
"…" B smiled 'curiously', hiding whatever emotion he was experiencing perfectly. Perhaps some grand mixture of confusion, annoyance, surprise, and hunger—the latter because he realized he had no more jam, of course. "What are you talking about?"
"You don't have to pretend!" She managed between clenched teeth, still twisting the swing as best she could, legs stretching to keep contact with the ground so as to not only continue twisting her, but to hold back her release. "I know everything, B.B."
B blinked, raising an eyebrow. He didn't think this girl was the type to have the eyes…
"Oh, and how is that?"
Spade clenched her teeth around the bag tighter, before allowing herself to let go. The swing spun madly, and she laughed hysterically—teeth still holding the bag in place.
Minutes later, when it came to stop, she smiled at him and laughed on, breathless and disheveled. He looked so impatient, and that only made her giggle more.
"Because, silly," she began, "I've got the greatest power ever up in here."
Pointing to her head, she only smiled wider.
"It's a little something called Mary Sue knowledge. Y'know, y'know?"