Ins and Outings

A lot of people were gorging themselves on burnt meats and playing with explosives–and in some cases heading to a local ER because of one, the other, or both.  Me?  I wrote.  Nearly two thousand words, split between the morning (which you saw if you read yesterday’s post) and the evening.  I know, I have an exciting life.

You devoured the Roast Beast, I caused students to lose their shit.  It's sort of the same thing.

You devoured the Roast Beast, I caused students to lose their shit. It’s sort of the same thing.

There was something that came out of yesterday’s scene, and if you notice in the graphic above, you’ll see that another scene was added to Chapter Sixteen.  And why is that?

Someone is suffering from Outing Guilt.  Allow me to explain . . .

While a lot of strange thing happen in sorcery class–and that’s saying something–trying to control other students with a mixture of your own black magic making tends to bring out things in students.  They may go places with their questions where they might not otherwise go.  When that happens, things can go to hell in rather sudden fashion.

Which is exactly what happened in the Kerry/Lisa Open Sorcery Cage Match.  She thought she has a winning formula and went personal, hoping she was going to either (a) get some juicy, and embarrassing, sexual info, or (b) watch Kerry writhe in pain.  That didn’t happen, however, but it did happen to her, and when Kerry took it personal and managed to pull out of Lisa that there could be some girl crushing going on, he hit her with a magical chair and took her down.

Like it or not, he also outed her in front of all the A Levels.  Or at least that”s how Kerry sees it in the next scene.

Outing is not fun.  I’ve never outed anyone in my life, and now that I’m a member of the LGBT community, I’m well away of the fear associated with getting outed–particularly when I’m presenting as myself everywhere but work.  I’m pretty much open and presenting everywhere these days, and I’ve grown comfortable with how people see me.  The only time I’ve been outed was when one of my cousins outed me to my sister–someone I almost never speak with–and she decided not to bitch to me about it, but called someone else I’m close to and spent forty-five minutes going on about what an embarrassment I was to my family full of racists, drunks, and the occasional drug addict.

Look at that:  pink ear buds, purple tee shirt, and a brown coffee mug.  Totally doubleplus ungood.

Look at that: pink ear buds, purple tee shirt, and a brown coffee mug. Totally doubleplus ungood.

Oh, and that’s taken while I write this, so now you know how I roll when I’m blogging on the weekends.

That’s Kerry’s predicament:  he ended up with the excellent proficiencies in sorcery, but he’s feeling terrible about doing something that he wouldn’t normally do to another person–

Welcome to the World of Black Magic, kid.

Sure, some may think it sounds a little too PC for kids to think this way, but it’s not.  I picked this up from my daughter, who passed through middle school and will soon start her second year of high school.  She has many friends who are LGBT, and takes a dim view on people who out others, so it’s not out of the question for Kerry suffer with this internal struggle.

And the strange thing is, this is gonna play up well with something that happens two novels down the line.

What?  You know I’ve always gone there.