LJ Idol, Season 10 Second Chance, Week 4: Open Topic
A folded up sheet of paper in her hand, her trusty satchel bouncing on her hip, Rafaela strode down the hallway. She asked the person who was jogging alongside her, “Want to go to the bar after this?”
“Sure,” Noah replied, “now that we're both actually legal.”
They arrived at a door, and Rafaela wrapped her hand around the knob.
“Wait!” Noah snapped. “Before we go inside, let me get this straight: are we talking the manga, the anime, or the live-action version?”
“The live-action one,” she told him.
“Ah, man!” Noah rolled his eyes. “They had to go and pick the sucky one!”
“It's not that bad.”
“Yes, it is! They drained all the energy of the source material and shat it out on camera. They couldn't even be bothered to follow the storyline of the original!”
She couldn't believe she was being sucked into this conversation, but she had to say something. She actually liked the show. “The cartoon ran for two seasons of thirteen episodes each. The American version ran for six seasons of twenty-two episodes each. They had to expand the mythology to fit it.”
He held his hand out pleadingly. “Why? Why do it at all? Why couldn't they let the comic and cartoon speak for themselves?”
“They wanted to bring it to a bigger budget with a broader audience.”
“Yeah, by whitewashing it, you mean.”
She had to admit to herself he had a point about that part, but she didn't have to admit it to him. She wouldn't give him the victory. “Look, we have to do this. Can we?”
“Lead on.”
She burst through the door into a college study lounge, in which all the furniture had been pushed against the walls. In the center stood six people of various genders and body types, surrounding a circle painted in the tile floor. In the middle of that was a lit candle. Six heads turned to her direction while Noah slipped inside behind her.
Rafaela waved timidly. “Uh, hi?”
One of the rounder women frowned at her. “Rafaela? What are you doing here?”
“Keeping you from making a big mistake, Lettie.”
“This is about as far from a mistake as you can get,” Lettie replied. “It's the only sane thing we can do right now.”
“Look,” Rafaela pleaded, “I know Astro Red was a great show-”
“Yeah, a great show to shit all over,” Noah scoffed.
She continued. “But that's all it is, a show.”
“It's so much more than that!” interjected a skinny man.
“I get it, I get it,” Rafaela agreed. “It made me believe a girl could kick ass and do anything she wanted. But you can't let it take over your whole life like this.”
“These characters are practically my friends!” declared the skinny man.
Everyone else agreed.
“I know,” Rafaela said. “I had the biggest crush on Ross. Not the actor who plays Ross, but on Ross himself.”
“Ross?” exclaimed Noah. “For fuck's sake, Raf! Ross?”
“He was so sensitive!” she snapped at him. She turned back to the center of the room. “Manifesting a god is dangerous enough, but manifesting a fictional god is so much trickier. You have to deal with the whims of its creators, for starters. And then there's the interpretations of it that each of you is bringing to the ritual. This could turn into chaos so quickly it'll burn holes in your shoes.”
“How could this go badly?” Lettie shook her head. “Yfic is the god of honor. Don't you think we could use some honor in our world this day and age?”
“Guys,” Rafaela begged, “don't.”
“You can't stop us.” Lettie bent over and blew out the candle.
The room went dark, filled with the sound of confusion from Lettie and her five companions.
Noah whispered, “This is bad, right?”
Rafaela whispered back, “I'm trying to remain hopeful.”
The overhead light flipped back on, revealing a room pretty much the same, except for a ninth person now standing in the center of it. He was tall and lean, with light brown skin on top of an angular face. He wore a costume that seemed to be an amalgam of all the military uniforms from history, complete with the occasional scrap of armor and a red cape. He scanned his surroundings with a blue-eyed gaze and growled, “Where is the honor in this room?”
“My lord,” Lettie began.
He thrust out a hand and wrapped it around her throat. “Look at the way you're dressed. Disgraceful.” He tossed her across the room.
The skinny man cowered and whined, “But you're supposed to be a good god! The heroes turned to you for help and guidance!”
Yfic laughed. “In the plan for season seven, I was going to be revealed to be a tyrant. Your heroes would have been forced to battle my might.”
Rafaela turned to Noah. “That would have been a pretty good twist.”
Noah sneered. “Cliché.”
“There's just no pleasing you.”
Yfic announced, “I've seen your world, and it is lacking in honor. I will bring it to you, and if you don't accept it, you will die.”
“Holy shit, he's going to kill everyone in government,” Noah muttered. “I don't see how this is a bad thing.”
Yfic stepped out of the circle, only to be confronted by Rafaela, who waved a slip of paper in front of his face, telling him, “I've got something here that will make you change your mind: fan fiction! Beautifully written. In it, you're a gentle soul who falls in love with a mortal woman, who I'm pretty sure is a stand-in for the author. All that understanding and tenderness is right here, in these pages. Can't you feel that side of you?”
“It's not canon,” Yfic replied.
“Neither's a hypothetical season that was never filmed,” she countered.
He backhanded her across the cheek, sending her flying, and walked out the door.
“Raf!” Noah shouted before running to her side.
She sat up slowly and rubbed the side of her face. “How am I going to explain this bruise to my parents the next time we Skype?”
“He's getting away!” Noah told her.
“Hold on, let me think.” She massaged her temples as if it were going to produce inspiration. “Got it,” she said. “I need you to follow him, and in about five minutes you're going to do something so dishonorable he's going to want to follow you back to this room.”
“Like what?” he asked.
She held his chin in her hand so they were facing each other. “You're a punk rock anarchist who's being instructed to cut loose. Think of something.”
He got to his feet and headed for the door.
Rafaela called after him, “And don't forget he can shoot fireballs. Thanks!”
He went outside without a word.
“What are you going to do against that?” whined the skinny man.
Rafaela rooted around inside her satchel, retrieving a book and a butterfly knife. She flipped through the book, found the page she was looking for, then proceeded to carve a sigil onto the door. When she was done, she put the book and the knife away and got out her phone to tap furiously on it.
The skinny man yelled, “Are you tweeting? Any second now a god is going to come into this room, and we're all gonna die!”
“Relax,” Rafaela cooed.
Noah charged through the door, panting, “He's on his way.”
“What did you do?” she asked.
“I peed on his shoes,” he replied. “He did not like that at all. I got singed.”
On long strides, Yfic followed him inside and bellowed, “You'll pay for your disgrace!”
“Whenever you're ready, Raf,” Noah requested.
Rafaela cleared her throat. “Hey, Yfic.”
He spun around to face her. “Are you here to waste my time again? Because I'll kill you too!”
Rafaela shook her head. “I'm hear to read you an interview with Tim Rivers, the genius who created the American version of Astro Red and served as executive producer for five seasons. On the subject of Yfic, God of Honor:
“He's always been such a calm and centered character. He's the kind of guy who doesn't need to take the spotlight. He's happy kicking back on the ethereal plane, letting the heroes do the work.”
“That's not true!” Yfic shouted. “I have a whole season planned out with me as the villain.”
“Planned out, though,” Rafaela insisted, “not filmed. This is your creator here, not some flunkies the network brought in to add to the drama. He believes you're the good guy, and so do I.”
Yfic shook his head. “I don't understand!” He tried to flee through the door, but he couldn't open it.
Noah let him try for a while, and then he swept up behind him and patted him on the back. “Why don't you just go back to the ethereal plane and let us do our thing.”
“Yes,” Yfic agreed. “Yes. That's for the best.”
The lights went out, and when they came back on, there were only eight occupants of the study lounge. The room was silent, except for the sound of Lettie's labored breathing as she got back up, holding her throat.
Rafaela looked at her. “Are you going to listen to me the next time I tell you not to do something?”
Lettie nodded.
Rafaela clapped. “Yah! Come on, Noah, let's get a drink.”
“Sure,” Noah replied, “now that we're both actually legal.”
They arrived at a door, and Rafaela wrapped her hand around the knob.
“Wait!” Noah snapped. “Before we go inside, let me get this straight: are we talking the manga, the anime, or the live-action version?”
“The live-action one,” she told him.
“Ah, man!” Noah rolled his eyes. “They had to go and pick the sucky one!”
“It's not that bad.”
“Yes, it is! They drained all the energy of the source material and shat it out on camera. They couldn't even be bothered to follow the storyline of the original!”
She couldn't believe she was being sucked into this conversation, but she had to say something. She actually liked the show. “The cartoon ran for two seasons of thirteen episodes each. The American version ran for six seasons of twenty-two episodes each. They had to expand the mythology to fit it.”
He held his hand out pleadingly. “Why? Why do it at all? Why couldn't they let the comic and cartoon speak for themselves?”
“They wanted to bring it to a bigger budget with a broader audience.”
“Yeah, by whitewashing it, you mean.”
She had to admit to herself he had a point about that part, but she didn't have to admit it to him. She wouldn't give him the victory. “Look, we have to do this. Can we?”
“Lead on.”
She burst through the door into a college study lounge, in which all the furniture had been pushed against the walls. In the center stood six people of various genders and body types, surrounding a circle painted in the tile floor. In the middle of that was a lit candle. Six heads turned to her direction while Noah slipped inside behind her.
Rafaela waved timidly. “Uh, hi?”
One of the rounder women frowned at her. “Rafaela? What are you doing here?”
“Keeping you from making a big mistake, Lettie.”
“This is about as far from a mistake as you can get,” Lettie replied. “It's the only sane thing we can do right now.”
“Look,” Rafaela pleaded, “I know Astro Red was a great show-”
“Yeah, a great show to shit all over,” Noah scoffed.
She continued. “But that's all it is, a show.”
“It's so much more than that!” interjected a skinny man.
“I get it, I get it,” Rafaela agreed. “It made me believe a girl could kick ass and do anything she wanted. But you can't let it take over your whole life like this.”
“These characters are practically my friends!” declared the skinny man.
Everyone else agreed.
“I know,” Rafaela said. “I had the biggest crush on Ross. Not the actor who plays Ross, but on Ross himself.”
“Ross?” exclaimed Noah. “For fuck's sake, Raf! Ross?”
“He was so sensitive!” she snapped at him. She turned back to the center of the room. “Manifesting a god is dangerous enough, but manifesting a fictional god is so much trickier. You have to deal with the whims of its creators, for starters. And then there's the interpretations of it that each of you is bringing to the ritual. This could turn into chaos so quickly it'll burn holes in your shoes.”
“How could this go badly?” Lettie shook her head. “Yfic is the god of honor. Don't you think we could use some honor in our world this day and age?”
“Guys,” Rafaela begged, “don't.”
“You can't stop us.” Lettie bent over and blew out the candle.
The room went dark, filled with the sound of confusion from Lettie and her five companions.
Noah whispered, “This is bad, right?”
Rafaela whispered back, “I'm trying to remain hopeful.”
The overhead light flipped back on, revealing a room pretty much the same, except for a ninth person now standing in the center of it. He was tall and lean, with light brown skin on top of an angular face. He wore a costume that seemed to be an amalgam of all the military uniforms from history, complete with the occasional scrap of armor and a red cape. He scanned his surroundings with a blue-eyed gaze and growled, “Where is the honor in this room?”
“My lord,” Lettie began.
He thrust out a hand and wrapped it around her throat. “Look at the way you're dressed. Disgraceful.” He tossed her across the room.
The skinny man cowered and whined, “But you're supposed to be a good god! The heroes turned to you for help and guidance!”
Yfic laughed. “In the plan for season seven, I was going to be revealed to be a tyrant. Your heroes would have been forced to battle my might.”
Rafaela turned to Noah. “That would have been a pretty good twist.”
Noah sneered. “Cliché.”
“There's just no pleasing you.”
Yfic announced, “I've seen your world, and it is lacking in honor. I will bring it to you, and if you don't accept it, you will die.”
“Holy shit, he's going to kill everyone in government,” Noah muttered. “I don't see how this is a bad thing.”
Yfic stepped out of the circle, only to be confronted by Rafaela, who waved a slip of paper in front of his face, telling him, “I've got something here that will make you change your mind: fan fiction! Beautifully written. In it, you're a gentle soul who falls in love with a mortal woman, who I'm pretty sure is a stand-in for the author. All that understanding and tenderness is right here, in these pages. Can't you feel that side of you?”
“It's not canon,” Yfic replied.
“Neither's a hypothetical season that was never filmed,” she countered.
He backhanded her across the cheek, sending her flying, and walked out the door.
“Raf!” Noah shouted before running to her side.
She sat up slowly and rubbed the side of her face. “How am I going to explain this bruise to my parents the next time we Skype?”
“He's getting away!” Noah told her.
“Hold on, let me think.” She massaged her temples as if it were going to produce inspiration. “Got it,” she said. “I need you to follow him, and in about five minutes you're going to do something so dishonorable he's going to want to follow you back to this room.”
“Like what?” he asked.
She held his chin in her hand so they were facing each other. “You're a punk rock anarchist who's being instructed to cut loose. Think of something.”
He got to his feet and headed for the door.
Rafaela called after him, “And don't forget he can shoot fireballs. Thanks!”
He went outside without a word.
“What are you going to do against that?” whined the skinny man.
Rafaela rooted around inside her satchel, retrieving a book and a butterfly knife. She flipped through the book, found the page she was looking for, then proceeded to carve a sigil onto the door. When she was done, she put the book and the knife away and got out her phone to tap furiously on it.
The skinny man yelled, “Are you tweeting? Any second now a god is going to come into this room, and we're all gonna die!”
“Relax,” Rafaela cooed.
Noah charged through the door, panting, “He's on his way.”
“What did you do?” she asked.
“I peed on his shoes,” he replied. “He did not like that at all. I got singed.”
On long strides, Yfic followed him inside and bellowed, “You'll pay for your disgrace!”
“Whenever you're ready, Raf,” Noah requested.
Rafaela cleared her throat. “Hey, Yfic.”
He spun around to face her. “Are you here to waste my time again? Because I'll kill you too!”
Rafaela shook her head. “I'm hear to read you an interview with Tim Rivers, the genius who created the American version of Astro Red and served as executive producer for five seasons. On the subject of Yfic, God of Honor:
“He's always been such a calm and centered character. He's the kind of guy who doesn't need to take the spotlight. He's happy kicking back on the ethereal plane, letting the heroes do the work.”
“That's not true!” Yfic shouted. “I have a whole season planned out with me as the villain.”
“Planned out, though,” Rafaela insisted, “not filmed. This is your creator here, not some flunkies the network brought in to add to the drama. He believes you're the good guy, and so do I.”
Yfic shook his head. “I don't understand!” He tried to flee through the door, but he couldn't open it.
Noah let him try for a while, and then he swept up behind him and patted him on the back. “Why don't you just go back to the ethereal plane and let us do our thing.”
“Yes,” Yfic agreed. “Yes. That's for the best.”
The lights went out, and when they came back on, there were only eight occupants of the study lounge. The room was silent, except for the sound of Lettie's labored breathing as she got back up, holding her throat.
Rafaela looked at her. “Are you going to listen to me the next time I tell you not to do something?”
Lettie nodded.
Rafaela clapped. “Yah! Come on, Noah, let's get a drink.”