The Great Debate
Time for the weather report! ^_^ Well, it's about seven o'clock on May 27, 2002, Memorial Day, and there's thunder and lightning outside, meaning that I'm being deprived of the computer, so I can't update my journal or write anymore of "Forever" and "'Till the Death" like I should be doing. No rain yet, though. Grr… Anyway, as a result of my deprivation, I'm lying on my bed, portable CD player up extra high (no power right now; luckily it's still somewhat light outside), and writing down an idea I had while I washed dishes this evening. So here goes… I own very little, and the story is pure nonsense, written in the point of view of… well, of me. So here goes… Ooh, I already said that! Déjà vu! No spelling today…
I grinned, pulling up my computer screen with the big iceberg on it, which was currently my favorite screen saver, although that would most definitely change by noon the next day, when I'd replace the thing with a new selection of someone's fan art. Rebooting the computer to maximum efficiency—something I had to do every time before I used it—was pure hell, but it was worth it. My Aerosmith CD blared through the speakers, even though I knew very, very well that my mother was going to make turn the music down the very second she got home.
A double click on my floppy disk brought up a screen positively full of word documents and my eyes widened. Oh shit. Here came the hard part…
Deep in the recesses of my mind, Via Maxwell tossed her head and pointed an accusatory finger in my direction. "You! Work on Forever! All you've got to do is type, for the sake of Shinigami, because you've already written all down on notebook paper when you were supposed to be taking notes in history class!"
Chance, Via's fellow Gundam pilot descendant, tried to keep Via from lunging at my throat. "Giver her a break, Via. We're better off than a lot of the stories here, and at least she's trying to-"
"She promised Kate and NK-san that she'd finish it for them!"
Chance sighed. "Via, technically it is finished. She just has to-"
"To connect the dots, I know, she's said that a thousand times already." Via shook her way out of his loose grasp. "And why are you playing the pacifist, eh? It's your story too!"
"Yeah, but-" Chance began before he paused and continued quietly. "But I've gone from being nice and shy to being a total jerk. My character isn't any good anymore."
I sighed. "You get to be nice again in the next chapter," I mumbled, half-hoping he wouldn't hear. It's nice when they think I'm keeping them in character, but it's nice to get some peace and quiet to write other stuff, too. "Promise."
He heard me, and he looked thoughtful. "Good point. In that case, work on Forever."
A voice to his left stopped me before I could double click the story.
"Actually, I think it's our turn." A group of disgruntled character from various animes made me groan as they collected together with their pitchforks and torches at the ready.
I smiled nervously at Vegeta and Vampire Hunter D, sparing a glance at Hiei and Kurama on the way. "Look, guys… You all are on hold for a while. Until my inspiration decides to give me a quick kick in the pants." I glared. "No getting ideas, though."
Hiei rolled his eyes, displaying more emotion than I'd seen him do in a long while, and mumbled something I couldn't hear. The entire group walked away, some with their noses in the air, others scowling and throwing angry looks my way. I sighed, relieved that at least one crisis had been avoided, until someone nearby cleared his throat.
I blinked. "Heero?"
The boy scowled. "No! Look at my eyes, you dumb authoress. Do they look blue to you?"
"Yes, Lon! How long has it been since you worked on 'Till the Death, huh? Last time I checked, the Maxwell baka had just-"
Lon spared a glance at Via. "The Maxwell baka in my story, I mean—had just walked in on Quatre and Trowa! There's no justice in that!"
Chance frowned, examining Lon. "You know, you look familiar."
"Well, obviously!" Lon gestured vaguely in my direction. "She has no imagination! Half of her original characters look exactly alike one another, and the other half all look like characters from an actual show!"
"Oh, right." Chance grinned. "So we're both Heero Yuy look-alikes with brown eyes. Identical. Except I've got a personality that doesn't make people want to hit me and everyone wants me to get the girl."
Lon glared at his look-alike, murder shining in his kaleidoscope eyes, and I sighed. "Look, guys, I don't think that I-"
Relena's voice popped up from the shadows, interrupting me. "Hello, have you forgotten me?"
I groaned. "No, Relena. I could never forget you." I tried to restrain from getting sick at the sight of her by breaking into a coughing fit.
"Well, you promised to write a story about me, remember?"
Then Heero—the real Heero—spoke up. "You haven't forgotten about all those stories staring me, have you? There's Just Another Mission, Training, His Eyes… And I haven't even mentioned that sequel you started writing for How Could I Forget!" He paused. "What was that called?"
I sighed. "If We Could Go Beyond Forever," I told him, biting my lip. "Half of those stories you mentioned the people reading this haven't even heard of."
"Because you haven't worked on them."
He had a point. I hated to say it, but he did have a point. "Well, I-"
"Don't forget me!" A tall blond girl bounded in. "Remember me?"
"Jeez, Rika, the audience doesn't even know who you are yet!"
"Easily fixed." She gave a mock curtsey. "I'm a soon-to-be-introduced prostitute in a story based on an Aerosmith song and I get to pretend to be someone's sister!"
"Shut up, Rika!"
She sniffed indignantly, pouting in a makeshift corner, back facing me. "Fine. Be that way."
Duo rolled his eyes as he wandered in. "Just can't make some people happy, can you Hawk?" He threw his braid behind him. "But you can make me happy. When do you plan on fiddling with those song-fics you started last summer?"
"Uh… Soon?" I decided not to mention that I couldn't even remember which song-fics he was talking about. "Real soon."
Odin Lowe and Solo glared at me. "You haven't killed us off yet!" they roared in turn. Odin was fingering the holster his gun was resting in, eyes slowly narrowing as he faced me.
"You guys want to die?! Look, Pocketful Of Dreams and Sacrifices just don't seem to be going anywhere right now, all right? Give me some time once school let's out, and then we'll see about it, okay?"
Solo scowled. "Mine's a Christmas fic. How do ya' plan t'do that? In July, no less!"
"With a lot of luck?"
A girl with long hair watched with interest. "While we're at it, when do you plan on finishing my story?"
"Who are you?"
"Nefret, Quatre's sister."
I blinked. "Who?"
Trowa cut her off with his own complaint. "What about Reveries? You possessed Quatre and you leave it like that? Few would do such a thing; what makes you think you can?"
"Yeah!" Duo pumped his fist into the air. "You tell her, Trowa!"
A riot was going to break out inside my head. Perfect. Absolutely wonderful. That would improve my day.
As the cries of several characters reached the level of a really bad nightmare, someone spoke up. "Quit it, guys! Hawk's doing the best she can! You all should be ashamed of yourselves!" I eyed Quatre suspiciously. Could it really be true that I had been saved by the one character for whom I'd never actually written a story? "Hawk loves writing, and she does her best to come up with new ideas for you all! You can't rush that!" The crowd started to murmur among itself. "How many stories, Duo, have you had a secret past where you've whored yourself out or were raped repeatedly?"
"All together? Hundreds of times. You get used to it after a bit, really."
"Has Hawk ever done that?"
Duo paused. "Well… No, I guess not." I refrained from mentioning the fact that this was because I was too busy drooling over the stories some other writers had written with exactly that plot. I didn't think it would go over too well.
"And Heero, has Hawk ever written you as a super-jealous control freak bastard, like most writers do?" There was no response, but Heero shook his head no, which was all Quatre needed. I decided not to spoil it and tell him that was only because Heero was too hard for me to write for. "Don't you see? She doesn't write until she gets good ideas for you! That's why she doesn't work on your stories! And things like this aren't going to help!"
The murmuring had gotten a little louder and I started to get nervous. This wasn't working; even I could see that. Apparently, so could Quatre. His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. When he spoke again, his voice was low and quiet, but no one had any trouble hearing him.
"If I ever see any of you doing this to her again, I'll personally come after you while I'm being zeroed out," he threatened before returning to his smiling standby. "Everyone understand?"
A few characters looked frightened. Most looked a bit ashamed. Several slunk away, pointedly trying to say 'I was never here! I wasn't causing trouble!' and avoid Quatre all at the same time. I let out a relieved sigh as my mind slowly emptied itself again.
"Thanks, Quatre. I owe you one."
"No problem." The blonde boy who had just saved the orderliness inside my head smiled. "But could you possibly work on that story where-"
I practically bolted away from my computer. No more of that! With all the commotion those damn characters caused whenever I tried to write, was it any wonder I never finished anything?
As I double-clicked on my "Fan Fiction.Net" link, I paused, listening to my head again.
"Pst. Hey you, read me."
"No, read me!"
I eyed the fan fiction people had posted on-line warily as several begged, ordered, and commanded me to read them. I sighed.
"Here we go again…"
So, that was a brief and ridiculous view on the inside of my head. Scary, isn't it? Luckily, it rarely happens that way.
Usually rival Original Characters try to fight it out to decide which one of them is the best… Um… Yeah. That's all… ^.^