I guess small town infamy is still infamy

[idiosyncreant]

I dug out my Spiderman poster to put on my door. (I actually received 2 the year I was 18, an undeserved reward for being annoying about that particular fangirl phase.)

Back to the Superhero Research!



Sky High may be awesome, but it's really just fodder for Backlash Girls. However much I may be whole-heartedly indulging avoidance behaviors toward writing, it's really got my attention right now.

I even stripped the walls of most of the pictures I had up for "Charming" (librarian glam story) since the visuals are turning out different anyway.



Wanna hear a bit?

The Lamest Powervillain EVAR

“I have a bad feeling about this,” I said at the mirror. My Han impression wasn't stellar, since for one, I have a definite girl voice (I envy those altos) and for two, I was looking at myself in the mirror. Not the best context for sounding cocky, if fearful.

My Zombie Boyfriend T-shirt (brains over beauty, yesh) is a little too stretched over significant areas, since I've gained a little more weight, and I didn't like my face without the frames Ena gave me. Stupid Carter had stepped on them. Even my gamer-chick look wasn't at its best.

Also, I had calculated that since Teddy hadn't been at the gamer coven last time, it wasn't basketball season, and the newest Halo had hit the Game-Stop shelves he was sure to be there tonight. Doesn't that sound dangerously neat? “What could go wrong?” says the heroine.

But no matter what Ena and Chelsea would be there, so it would be fun.

See how you jinx yourself?

 

 

Ena, Chelsea, Freedom. At school we were the Anti-Cool. Sneering from the Geek Table, we mocked what was too popular. Loved what wasn't. If everyone was in love with Robert Pattinson (plays Edward Cullen, those of you lucky enough to not remember or know this) we were so onto that poser. If big pants were in, we had an arsenal of phrases to describe how ridiculous people looked.

No, we weren't that lovable. And we were okay with that. We had our own crowd, and our own sense of humor—what more could we want?

(I'll mention later the part where this rhetorical question was answered. Unpleasantly, of course.)

 

So it was Wednesday—the pizza buffet place stayed open late every other week just for gamers. This included the school chess clubs, Halo fanatics and a hard-core D&D club.

Chelsea was picking me up, which is why the statistical probability of my crush's appearance at the meeting had the opportunity to trouble my mind. Just as I was checking that it was not the 13^th, there was the blatant honking of a car horn from across the house. I grabbed my backpack with its ballast of manga under my cards and old Nintendo tapes and went running through the living room, down the cinder-block steps from my house and to the side of my bosom friend.

“You better buy me my pizza, Freedom. This gas money is gonna kill my anime funds.”

“What is it, a whole mile from your house to mine, and back onto the highway? That's not far enough to bankrupt anybody.”

“If I didn't have a deal to take you, I'd probably miss more often.”

“And do what, rewatch episodes of Skip-Beat on YouTube?”

“Lame! Would not. Anyway, on YouTube everything is cut up into itty-bitty pieces. One of the Pride and Prejudice movies take sup the whole alphabet instead of being numbered, and-- Shut up.”

I only laughed a little.

We walked up to the pizza place after the proper mental preparation—a fresh application of goth-toned lip-gloss, that is.

The place is swamped with guys, okay? This is important. The good third of them that are hopeless with girls and somewhat unattractive tend to be considerably too smart for the cultural wasteland that is high-school. Even if they're squandering it on mind-deadening video games.

I can say this with immunity because Chels and I drag Ena to the arcades all the time.

In a minute I was at Our Booth, between the Magic the Gathering table (the longest line of joined tables) and the booth piled up with random board games, including a ragged old Dungeons & Dragons set for those who wanted to play but weren't in the religiously prompt game in the darkest furthest corner of the room. This, by the way, is prime realty, but totally co-opted for D&D use. The Dungeon Master is a man not to be trifled with. I mean, he's a sweet-heart under the 250 pounds of man and beard.

Chelsea and I were trying to make Archer's girlfriend feel more welcome. She looked a little shell-shocked, which arrival in Geek Paradize might do to any mild-mannered Normal. I don't know about Chels, but my friendliness escalated a notch in perkiness when Teddy came in the door. Sad, but true.

You wanna hear about him, right, girls? Well, he's blone, but short. He's got a complexion that could use help. However?

Big however.

He's witty, not a loser, and I swear, get him wet at your peril. *swoon* He's built.

I have his chat-name via underhanded means, but have never worked up the nerve to initiate.

“So, June,” I was saying, “do you like any sorts of games? You're gonna be a sad girl tonight if you don't.”

“This may be lame,” she said in the timid voice of a girl not sued to being outside her element. “But I like word games. Boggle, Scrabble.”

“My kinda girl,” I said. “Killer Boggle—where angels fear to tread.”

She smiled really cute. The slightly bugged out eyes and wide, thin mouth turned her face manga brilliant. I now understood why Archer looked like he was escorting the Heavenly Descendant.

“I'm not great,” she said. Maybe the phrase 'Killer Boggle' had been a little intimidating. “I just like them.”

“Who has to be great? Words are always good. Scrabble is better than any of these cult RPGs because you can win all along the way, even if you lose the game. 'Look at that, I just laid the word 'republic'.”

“That wouldn't be high-scoring, really,” Chelsea said.

“My point exactly. The word itself is a victory.” I had to then add, “Though you'd Scrabble, and that's 50 points.”

June giggled at Chelsea's fist-shaking in my direction.

“You guys gonna ditch me for word games again?” Teddy's voice came from behind me. “I was just practicing my Jenga moves...”

Even with a crush, I'm not the pushover I should be. “Maybe we'll let you shake the Boggle box.”

He chuckled—point to Freedom.

The FF fanboy trio across the aisle started to diss Cipro, lamest Powervillain in the world. It wasn't a conversation we hadn't heard before. If you're going to be around boys who read comics, you're going to hear them analyzing the fiction and reality by each other.

And yes, the post title is a later quote.

Comments

[fabricalchemist.livejournal.com]

Wow. James has that poster in his room, my sister has the zombie boyfriend shirt, and I have black lipgloss. This could be a fun drinking game.

It's interesting to see these girls with 'nerd' interests behaving like 'popular' girls.

[idiosyncreant.livejournal.com]

Hmm.

I wonder if I'm not striking the right tone? But the fact is in this context they are the popular girls...I've certainly had those places I was popular, outside of normal life.

Then again, I may be just justifying myself here.

Do you think that's a bad thing?


(This manuscript is pretty much turning into a nod-to-all-things-nerdish. I may have to really weed it down sometime.)

[fabricalchemist.livejournal.com]

Popular in the fact that they are feminine in a largely masculine genre?

I don't know that it's a bad thing, just odd. Generally the nerds tend to be more sympathetic in their own way, because they've seen and been subjected to the hurt that the popular kids hand down. Attitude is usually beaten out of them. Your girls kind remind me a little of Kaye and Corny's badass nerdiness (from Tithe) -- though they were living fairly unorthodox lives.

[idiosyncreant.livejournal.com]

I think it's Freedom that's hard-nosed. Not the clique, really. She brings the attitude, and Ena is liberated by it, while Chelsea just tags along with it.

We'll see. If they still give off too much of a self-assured vibe at the end of the draft, I will have some editing to do, I think.