God of Marriage Saga: Intermission 1: Platforms
Imported from SF2 with no description.
This platform had a magical quality to it, that made a lot of my work simple.
It was here to let me tell my short stories. Which, many times, verged on being journals or diaries, but which were not.
To put it bluntly, I was 'mentalloid'.
Aerith: "You were a metalloid? Seriously? From the periodic table of your world?"
STOP.
No, I was 'mentaloid'. I was... crazy. A crazy person. I had to be, right? To be trying such an honest fourth-wall breaking self-insert fanfiction?
... Or incredibly evil and twisted, maybe? To be trying to subvert the entire writing genre with the false pretense of doing something skillful?
...
No. This was the kind of 'holy-.....' Holy what?
Holier-than-thou? I don't... think I'm holier than...
There, exactly the problem. Aerith, please, explain it so that I don't have to.
She rolled her eyes vacantly. Clearly even she had her limits.
"I'll try for you, though."
I closed my eyes, and tried to feel what Aerith would feel in this situation.
"You have to go back. To a point when you were honest about the writing you loved to do."
Right. Did I love writing? I... guess this whole premise has been about writing about Di Xin, for some reason, and it's derailed.
Aerith smiled. "No, Avery. I think there's a real problem you're trying to help everyone deal with... it's just much, much bigger than one writer's skillset."
Well, I couldn't very well ask for just help from characters? My audience, maybe?
"If you don't focus, moron, you won't be helping anyone, and you'll be getting help into a stretcher!" crowed a throaty old woman's voice.
_ Genkai _. Well, there came the moral support option. Hopefully she wouldn't crack any keyboards over my skull, Christ... I only wondered how well I'd remember the pain from a Genkai-brand stenography keyboard bludgeoning.
"FOCUS!" Genkai shouted. "Remember your problem, slacker! Stop covering it up with little frivolous not-problems, just so you can hide from everybody!"
My problem... my problem?
My problem is that there's a madman in me that wants to let two-legged things and four-legged things fuck indiscriminately.
And my other problem is that I'm doing everything possible to hold myself to account for every tiny little frivolous flaw in my character, to the point that it's destroying my ability to confront that madman.
"And then some, slacker! There's a whole queu of madmen you could be confronting, with your skill!"
So... my problem... is that I have a little, diminutive, pathetic evil genius in me, who is trying to constantly cover up anything meaningful I could say or do, behind an insincere apology, for the sake of a goodness that is 'frivolous'.
So... I'm not going to apologize for falling head-over-heals for Lupe the Wolf, and then marrying that idea, to the 'forced' relationship between Red XIII and Aerith Gainsborough.
... and yet... if that's the only problem I address, today... this series of short-storylikes is going to suck.
... so I set about wondering, how I could self-insert myself into Sonic's worlds, next.