Set it Off - Part 1
So, this is all queued up because I’m on vacation right now so over the next few days one of six parts of my Reverse Big Bang Piece is going to come out. But thank you to @sanderssidesfanfiction for holding this event and thank you to @munchydork6 for the beautiful artwork that inspired this piece. Go check this out and the music that also helped me write this. And, without further ado, enjoy!
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Part 1 - I Think It’s Arrogance
Word Count: 1073
The stage was set for conflict.
Roman sat at the kitchen table, scribbling more videos ideas into a spiral notebook. Occasionally he’d rip out a page and throw the crumpled page of an idea into the trash, and sometimes he’d be caught staring at a random wall in a daze. Otherwise his determined eyes never left the page as more words flowed from his gel pen tips. Cross outs in red and annotations in gold with notes to self in purple over pink ideas.
Logan sat across from him, looking over his book of ideas. Not speaking; simply observing as he let the creative side do what it did best. Sometimes the logical nodded as Roman tossed something away, or checked his watch. But Logan mainly remained motionless: fingers clasped and eyes darting with every word Ro wrote.
Patton watched the tension silently grow between the pair from the safe distance of the couch. He’d try to offer the boys the food or a break, anything to break the silence they were drowning in, but Roman would wave him away while Logan shook his head. He clenched the cushions as Logan rose sharply from his position. It was about to begin.
“Roman, we not have the time to entertain every fantastical idea that enters your head. It’s been months since Thomas has made a video and the fans are getting impatient.” Logan stated, before throwing his hands on the table. “You need to settle on an idea and stick with it.”
“The day I settle with mediocrity is the day I die.” Roman proclaimed, whipping his head up sharply to look straight into Logan’s determined eyes.
“You … do understand that we cannot actually die. As manifestations of Thomas’ personal...”
“The point still stands!” Roman’s voice rose at the injection, causing Patton to hide all but his eyes behind the edge of the couch. He did not like fighting at all, despite Lo and Ro’s arguments becoming all too more commonplace nowadays. “All these ideas simply do not meet the high standard that Thomas sets for all his videos.”
“Unfortunately, Thomas also has a TIME standard requiring videos to be produced at a sufficient rate.” Logan refuted. His voice never rose, which a good sign to Patton. If Logan’s voice rose, then the two had hit the point of no return. “The last video of yours that met your unrealistically high standard was six months ago! We need to stop procrastinating and decide on a concept.”
“I am NOT procrastinating! I have been churning out idea after idea to fit our and Thomas’ needs.” Roman pushed back his chair, rising now to meet Logan’s level as he continued to rattle off his thoughts. “Reasonable budget, high production standard, balance of screen time, easily presentable and understood moral, serious yet lighthearted, progression of the story Thomas wants to tell. All these factors must be taken into consideration.”
“Well, maybe your priorities are being insufficiently managed. Under my observations you’ve seemed to produce several ideas that, with some more elaborative brainstorming, could yield promising results.” Logan took a step closer to Roman. Patton watched the standoff unfold. The signs of failing restraint on Logan’s end and the frustration clearly etched in Roman’s features.
“Yet none were the right idea. The idea that is not like the last, but better. All I can think of are ... basic premises and hasty executions. Clearly you don’t understand the struggles that come with Creative Block.”
Logan took a breath before continuing. “I believe that your creative flow is not being segmented but rather your struggle for a suitable concept is due to your warped narcissistic vision of perfection.” Patton shot up from hiding in alarm. The facade Logan likes to preserve was fading with a rising voice. If this argument were to progress much further, he wouldn’t be able to stop it.
“A view of perfection warped by your logical constraints! Clearly you don’t understand the truth that YOU are not the solution but part of the problem!” Patton has to say something to de-escalate them both. But what? What could he possibly bring to the table that would make both of their points valid, which they were. And would they even listen? All they ever saw him as was comic relief.
“I’M RIGHT AND YOU’RE WRONG!”
There they were. The five words that were the catalyst; the ones that signaled the point of no return. Patton closed his eyes and sighed as his fellow ideas launched into the verbal equivalent of war. Both Logic and Creativity—practical opposites—vomiting our their arguments in a desperate and vain attempt to prove that their side was right. Unable to end due outstanding pride both refused to admit they had, usually only stopping when …
“Where’s Virgil?” Patton asked to oblivious ears. The anxious side was both the only one with the guts to stop the bickering and nowhere in sight. Virgil, unfortunately, was the person to try and avoid any conflict the second it escalated. He was, after all, Anxiety. Patton had to find him. He walked past Logan and Roman like a ghost in the night. This was a common occurrence when the two argued: the world around them fading unless something jarring or someone very directly interrupted them. Patton was not one of those things, so he was simply ignored.
He stood in the hallway of the mindscape, where the doors of all Thomas’ Sides resided. The four core ones—himself, Ro, Lo and Virge—rested at the front while the ones yet to be revealed, similar to how Deceit used to be, lay beyond. But Morality didn’t care about those doors at this current moment in time. His eyes instead lay to rest on Roman’s door. A soft purple glow leaked out of its small opening, and soft music echoed in Patton’s ears. A song he didn’t recognize from a voice he did.
Virgil.
Patton pushed the already ajar door open more so he could see in. His movements were soft and controlled to avoid startling Anxiety. But he wasn’t there. The door to the imagination, however, was unlocked. It’s signature golden light leaked into the Creative side’s room as it intertwined with glittery dark purple, nearly black, light. The song Virgil sang was louder, but the words were still unintelligible
Only a fool would intrude Anxiety during such a personal moment. But like the fool he was, Patton entered.