Yes, it’s one of those moments when, again, I surprise myself. Doesn’t happen all that often, but it happens.
I was speaking with someone over this game I’ve been in–which has been getting very interesting, by the way, in the way our characters are interacting. While we were speaking about something that had happened in what I like to call The Roleplay That Shall Not Be Named, a few scenes came to mind that seemed to establish how our characters–mine and the person I was speaking with–were stating to relate to each other.
It involved a few touching moments, but the most important parts seemed to be a dynamic between my friend’s character–a very cute and sweet girl with a dark side–and another girl character whom we met on a train. That dynamic became something we both call “territory marking”, where my friend’s character did a few things that let the other female character know that my character was “her guy” and she better back off. No threats, no raised voices, no cat slaps: just a couple of nicely played moves that indicated–for want of a better word–who was love interest was, and would always be.
The funny thing is, the other player pretty much left after that event: she was last seen getting into bed and going off to sleep, and . . . that was it. Never woke up the next morning. We’ve joked that she died in her sleep and was later re-animated as a zombie, and it has always been said as a good laugh, because–well, yeah, it is.
Only today . . . today it wasn’t totally a laugh. Today, while we were talking about the past, it suddenly hit me what really happened to her–and, in turn, that led me to an incredible revelation of why our characters happen to be where they are at, why they showed up being towed along by another person, and, most importantly, how it ties into something to do with a possible fate of my friend’s character.
Yep, all it involved was a little bit of jealousy and a bit of fighting and–very important here–the threat of taking away Mr. Psudo Boyfriend, and the next thing you know, WHAM! Zombie Girl sleeps with the fishes and everything with our character falls in line.
And I only have to wonder: how do I do something like that?
I mean, sure, I can swing a rather good idea now and then, but of late when I’ve been coming up with things to write about it’s involved some rather strange, twisted things that you wouldn’t expect people to pull. It brought to mind something that I did about 20 years ago. In the office where I was working at the time I’d had a few people in my department who were interested in reading one of my stories, so I told them, “How about I write you one and you can read it chapter by chapter?” The loved the idea, and I started in on it.
It was a good time for me as well, since I had an idea that I’d wanted to work on and, hey, I was getting feedback from three people. So I started . . . and there went Chapters 1 and 2 and 3 and . . . and 4 was going to be a problem, because right in the middle of something I’d started I thought, “Yeah, I need to go there,” and I told the story in a little bit of a strange direction for most of about 2000 words.
I went ahead and handed the chapter out, thinking, “Yeah, this might be the end of it here and now”. I did hear at least one “Oouuuuch!” from one of my readers who happen to be the next cubical over, but all three of them wanted to continue reading–
Though the best comment came from my lovely Italian coworker who never stopped from saying what was on her mind. ”You are one twisted fucker,” she told me. ”I’m gonna be thinking about my nipples all night.” And before she walked away she said, “If you weren’t married I’d take your ass home.”
Now, what I just came up with a few hours ago is nowhere near as . . . shall we save depraved as what I wrote 20 years ago, but the question: how the hell can one look at something and think, “Hey, what I need now is to turn this into a rape/murder” because there’s something in the back of your mind that whispers, “It makes sense, dude.”
I’m sure it happens to others, but I wonder if this is common with people who deal in speculative fiction, or erotica, or fantasy, or a combo of any and all? And is there someone, at this very moment, working on a straight laced romance novel who is thinking, “Oh, if only I could have her saying ‘The hell with it!’ and stop at an adult store to buy an Anal Intruder!”.
Hey, nothing with being a little bent, is there? Like I used to tell people, “I roleplay grim sci-fi games because it keeps my sociopathic tendencies in check.” I used to joke about that: I probably shouldn’t any more. After all, it’s been 20 years, and I’ve got them tamed by now.
Shouldn’t I?
