10.18.98
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"So, how did you get dubbed 'Queen of the Free World', anyhow?"
"Well, when I was younger, everyone seemed to assume that my early and over-developed melodramatic streak stemmed from some innate talent or tendency for it than from spending far too many afternoons in the company of my mother and her bridge club, all of whom were horribly dramatic themselves... I got so sick of correcting everyone that I just kind of grew into the title."
"How was school?"
"Oh, _Gods_ do we -have- to talk about -school-?" Sigh. "Oh, it was all right... But there were some things that I'd -really- rather forget about."
"Okay, so school wasn't fun. All right... How'd you end up working at a comic-book and trading-card shop?"
"Hmm... Well, I needed a job, or my mother was going to send me off to live with dad --"
"And your dad-?"
"Don't interrupt, darling, you know you hate it when people do it to you."
"Sorry, sorry, you're right... Please, continue."
"_Anyhow_, as I was -trying- to say... And -dad- would've had me apprenticed to, oh, who knows, a cheese-maker or something menial and boring. Wrycroft's may be fairly -menial-, but it's not usually boring." A sip of water. "I applied almost as a joke, I'd never had much interest in comics or cards or games and what-not.. The Eclectica is pretty close to where I live, and it was better than taking a job at some fast-food joint."
"And your interest in poetry?"
"-You- assumed that facet. I'm not all that smitten by poetry, if you -really- want to know... It's just a way to get a few minutes of my own time while still getting paid... A scam, basically."
"Has your interest in comics expanded since you've worked at Wrycroft's?"
"Oh, a little. If you'd just hurry up and get that bit with Mercury and I -finished-..."
"That's not entirely my fault, and I've been eagerly awaiting my return to school in the morning. Anyways, how did you and Mercury meet?"
"I met Mercury... Now this sounds as if we're doing some sort of Mercury-Memorial. Please tell me the dear boy isn't going to bite the big one in the near future...?"
"You know me, I _never_ kill anyone I -like-. You, Merc, Beej... Almost everyone I have is completely immune to _my_ killing them off. However, I make no promises for anyone else, so keep your nose clean, eh?"
"Of course, of course... As for meeting Mercury Vanguard... I got kicked out of his class at boot camp. Terribly embarrassing, really. I had an enormous row with the people in the mess-hall... Do we have to talk about this?"
"Don't whine at me, bub. So you complained about the food until you got kicked out? Odd..."
"Well, it wasn't the bitching I was doing so much as it was the fist-fights I got into when I tried to make my own changes to the menu... They deemed me too unruly, I guess. And they didn't -really- toss me out so much as they asked me to leave and I agreed."
"The next question, obviously, is 'What the -heck- were you doing in the military in the first place!?'"
Laughter. "Thank you, Captain Obvious... Ah. Well, I don't know, and therefore can't tell you. Oh well."
"Yeah, oh well... I'm sure you'll find a reason sooner or later. Maybe to escape your parents?"
"No, it wasn't to escape them... Dad thought it'd build me into something like the typical bone-headed cadet, which I'm sure would have made him happier than the pansy-ass that I -am-, and Mother didn't really care. So, it looks like we wait."
"Looks like. Hm. So, your parents are divorced?"
"Yeah, I guess so. They've been 'separated' since before I can remember, and I've never confronted them about it. I guess they didn't ever feel the need to -tell- me about it, since it was just one of those constants in my life since I was a mere zygote."
"Makes sense to me. Have any goals? Love-interests? Words of wisdom?"
"Um... Well, to not get run over by a bus, that's always a popular goal of mine. No loves, yet..." Glower. "You're in a hurry to marry off or otherwise involve the people you know, aren't you?"
"Not really... But I _do_ like them to get into nice, stable relationships."
"Nice and stable... -That's- amusing."
"Oh, shut up. I never -said- they were -extremely- healthy or _perfect_."
"True, true... Anyhow, -do- work on that, would you? I hate this retrograde amnesia thingy I've got going here, since I can't tell you what sort of past relations I've had..." Sigh. "But, to answer your question, no, no words of wisdom. I'm a -flake-, remember?"
"The retrograde amnesia isn't so much amnesia as it is 'stuff we -don't- know'. Anyhow, it annoys me, too. So you're a flake! Flakes usually have some glimmering of intelligence in there -somewhere-."
"Well, whatever." Grumpily. "Lack of backstory still plays merry hell with my present." A smirk. "How sweet of you to say so... Oh, I guess. As long as I don't have to think -all- the time."