name's six, but call me lancelot. i'm into juuuuuust about everything. you name it, and i've probably already done it. (unless it's some creepy interspecies kinky shit, 'cause even i've got my boundaries.)
okay, i'll admit--i'm in college. but can't a guy be in college and be the next harry houdini at the same time? [ independent semi-marvel OC
tracking the 'callmelancelot' tag ]
{Vivienne didnât do much, but her eyes strayed pointedly towards the drunkard behind Lance who had found a knife somewhere and was planning on using it on her overly loud twin.}
[A pointed brow is raised, and then Lance turns around and...] Oh.
[The next couple of movements are swift--Lance ducks, narrowly missing the swipe that could've hit his eyes, and as he crouches he brings his leg around in a circle, knocking the man off his feet and plucking the knife daintily out of his hand.]
Oh, yeah. Escapology's a great hobby. Houdini's amazing. That's really all there is to it.
One day I'm going to be able to get out of a locked box of water with Langford double knots around my wrists and not drown. All I need is someone willing to put me in a near-death situation.
I memorized the script before you were even born, and could probably quote it better than you. {Smirks slightly, popping a few more kernels into his mouth.}
Alright, then! [Beaming, Lancelot pulls out the Shrek movies--1, 2, 3, and 4-ever After. He pops the first one into the player, and then spreads the rest on the coffee table, hopping over it and falling comfortably into the welcoming arms of his couch.] I call dibs on Gingie, though.
Sometimes Lancelot wants something more. Something more than the role of a catalyst making Vivienne and Matt react.
Still, there are days it is not enough.
Lancelot isn't a steady rock; though, he often thinks that it would have made things easier. For him at least.
He is far from steady, however, especially lately.
He feels anxiety.
Fret starts nibbling at his toes, only to travel slowly along his restless calves and thighsâready to send him running somewhereâto his unsettled stomach and further to flutter in his chest and tickle his contracted throat, to finally settle in his head and send his mind reeling.
And suddenly, it is hard to play his 'ever happy' self in front of his friends or anyone else for that matter.
He had spoken about Matt's potential and tried to reassure him, because he hates looking at the downtrodden side of his friend. He knows it isn't exactly satisfaction that Matt feels when the world leaves him to his devices, allows him to exist on his own. No. Lancelot realized that both of them, Matt and him, are craving acknowledgement and maybe even finding a goal to pursue and fulfil, yet there is a certain difference between them.
Matt, while playing unmoved by flattery and appreciation of his talents on the front, is definitely elevated in spirits and has a bust of confidence and energy he seemingly lacks.
Lancelot? Oh, he wants acknowledgement as well. But it isn't simply any acknowledgement that he counts for. He needs to use his true abilities and show everyone and, more so, himself that he is able to do something alone. That he can manage reaching a conclusion on his own. That he can be his own man.
Otherwise, how is he to keep his cool any longer? Being Matt and Vivienne's shadow pushes him only more into his friends' direction. And he can't depend on Jackânot to the point it could lead to if he continues to doubt himselfâor he is going to completely lose his footing.
He stopped lying to himself about how he felt about Matt and Vivienne getting together some time ago, but it doesn't mean he's going to outright confess. Actually, he has no such intention. It could mess everything up. It could drift him and everyone apart and for what? The satisfaction of telling the truth or rather, not thinking 'what if' in the future? With the outcome obvious, there is no real satisfaction for him to gain... so he will stay shut for everyone's good.
Maybe more for their good?âa fleeting thought crosses his mind.
It doesn't matter that much.
There was a period of time, about six or eight months ago, during which he had asked himself what was wrong with him. Where and when had he gone wrong. How was it possible that from all the moments that have gathered around him or that he has chosen to experience, this had to be the instance that made Lancelot feel the most like he couldn't compare to anything?
Like a moth summoned by light, Lancelot attached himself to his twin sister and their best friend. It stings and it burns, but the danger is not enough to drive him away. Like an addictionâsimultaneously inducing pain and pleasure.
And to think he had never considered himself a masochist.
Shouldn't it be easier? Wanting to help the two people he loves most find what they're both too nervous to see? A puppy love that'll change into something deeper as quick as it comes and leave the both of them happy, together, forever? It's silly and fleeting, but strangely fulfilling, even if it was one of those 'impossible loves' built in childhoodâthe fact of it having happened enough to put a nostalgic smile on his face.
Lancelot is far from believing his first love has anything in common with it.
He isn't depressed because of them. Yet. But it certainly makes him uncomfortable.
Of course he has his bravado and natural enthusiasm to cover things up; however, the core of the problem is nowhere near being solved. His feelings are still there, as well as Matt and Vivienne to boot.
He is Matt's friend, though. What else can he do than to help him in finally spreading his wings to fly freely and enjoy the touch of the wind on his face? Who is he to try standing on the way to happiness that has started unfolding before Matt, while he is still to see it, taste it?
Lancelot wants to be selfish. He really wishes to stand right before the two of them and say what weighs at his heart for so long, just to be able to breathe with more ease and settle with the rejection of company he is sure to hear.
Lancelot is almost sure that they already know about his feelings. His friends are sharp and perceptive, plus Lancelot has had little mind to put his all into deceiving them.
Again, yes, Lancelot does not intend to confess, but it isn't synonymous with completely concealing his insecurities. It has been hardly possible from the start, taking his personality into account. And while he isn't obvious and impudent in his actions towards the two (slowly stepping back when they walk together in the halls, quietly shoving his hands into his pockets and keeping that default smile on his face, getting into trouble at public occasions and leaving the two of them alone), when one knows where to seek for the little signs of Lancelot's sentiments, they can be found after spending some time on observing him around his friends and the way he speaks to them, how he treats them.
Those are always small things, yet Lancelot can bet they are in no need of a verbal declaration. And with their characters, they aren't the type either to bring up Lancelot's feelings nor try making a compromise about it, if it's going to make him uncomfortable. Without Lancelot actually pursuing them or bringing the topic up, this insecurity that he holds is to be left in abeyance.
Sometimes, it leaves Lancelot with a sour taste in his mouth and a feeling of helplessness.
On those days Lancelot doesn't know what is right or wrong.
On those days Lancelot wants to shut everyone's mouth before they have the chance to say anything fun.
On those days Lancelot wants to either shake Vivienne by her shoulders just to show him his frustration that he normally holds in check, or to yell at Matt right then and there, with all the feelings bottled inside him, only to curl into a ball and wallow in sorrow for it being the only time he would tell them that he wished they wouldn't fall in love and leave him alone in the dark.
On those days Lancelot feels that he's not enough of a man and too much of a friend.
On those days Lancelot feels lonely in the company of his friends.
On those days Lancelot can't decide between shouting or crying.
On those days Lancelot does none of the things he really wants, though, because he's Lancelot and Matt and Vivienne are meant to be and there is place for nothing else.
On those days Lancelot curses himself for being exactly that... himself.
And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened: âBehold! human beings living in a underground cave, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the cave; here they have been from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move, and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets.
[âŠ] the prison-house is the world of sight, the light of the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the journey upwards to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world according to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have expressed, whether rightly or wrongly God knows. But, whether true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he who would act rationally either in public or private life must have his eye fixed.
{Jack chuckles softly and pulls the popcorn from the microwave and upends it into the bowl} I donât even know whatâs down there, just pick something if living without popcorn for a movie is so terrifying. I donât care. Maybe if youâre nice Iâll let you have some popcorn.
you can give all your family members one gift. what do you give them?
... this is terrible. I hate questions like these.
I don't know.
Give Papa a star so brilliant he'll forget how much pain he's been in. Give Dad a special whistle so whenever he's feeling lonely someone can always come. (Give cardboard cutout Justin Bieber a new haircut.)
Give Viv a stuffed lion that roars when you push its belly, so she can have courage.
Give Matt miracles so he can hear.
Give Tomas mortality so when Aunt Electra dies, he won't be lonely.
Give Aunt Electra pearls because she's more beautiful than she thinks she is, and she should listen to Tomas when he says so.
Give Uncle Carter a butterfly so he can learn how to be delicate.
Give Grey a white tablecloth that he isn't allowed to dirty.
Just promise you wonât leave any chains, or handcuffs lying around. I have enough trouble with keeping Florinda from running away from here screaming when she finds one of my knives laying about. {He finished putting away all of the groceries and started popping a bag of popcorn for them.}
Just as long as I get the bowl of popcorn to myself, you can wax philosophic to your heartâs content.
What? [The idea of not being able to eat popcorn while watching a film he thoroughly enjoys is synonymous to blasphemy!]
... We're not watching the Matrix, then. You pick. I refuse to have a hand in this matter for the sake of me not having any popcorn becoming a near possibility.
