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When Your OC Talks To You
Topic Started: Sep 26 2016, 04:58 AM (227 Views)
Mariko
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Phck.
It was just supposed to be a typical Monday morning. In this five-meter-by-seven-meter room inflicted with the suffocating heat from the sun, rays of which lanced the glass window, I hunched over my desk before glaring at my brightly-lit laptop which screamed its fast-draining battery: 20%. In one corner quietly sat a pile of papers and folders from work I failed to finish because I had been sick for the whole week, while on the other end, a half-emptied green mug of cold black coffee and a black PVC penholder which housed various colors of pen highlighters. Normally at this hour, I would be doodling on my notebook or replying to my threads as a form of mind exercise to jumpstart my slow morning brain (because I hate mornings, and I do better when its dark, but being human forces one to embrace what you hate the most because transactions and work usually happen when the sun is up), but right now that huge textbox where words were woven was empty, and the opened notebook beside the laptop bore no single smudge of ink. For hours I have been ruminating on the existence of my character, and the Arc she was supposed to go under, the Arc that was supposed to be about her, but contemplating on calling it a failure because of, allegedly, loopholes in the story I could see in my head. I've talked to my partner about it, and he seemed to be against the idea and was trying his best to make me feel less anxious of it and carry on. I could understand where he was coming from; he believed it was a good material, he wanted to support me the way I did when he was writing, and he believed in what I could do, but ... that was not I was seeing whenever I look at the picture.

What was the problem? Nothing, I just look at it horribly. Lack of confidence on the brainchild, perhaps? Lack of belief in my capability to execute a grand scheme that sounded awesome in the confides of my head? Yeah, maybe. Everything sounded better inside my head until I started working on it, putting it into action, and realize... it was prettier inside my head. Or perhaps, I was afraid of something. What was it? I have no idea. Or even if I have, there was lack of words to properly describe it.

Partner said this might be 'performance jitters'.

With another heavy sigh, I slammed my head on the keys of the laptop and entertained another stupid idea in my head: harvesting. Killing Tsuna so all of these... what would you even call this... anxiety? ... would end... and just create another character. At that point, a strong breeze entered from the window, and felt like something hit the top of my head that hurt. Though, I was too preoccupied with the things inside my head I paid no mind on it...until.

"Oi, Mariko."

What's that? Someone just called me Mariko in this household? No one in the house actually knew me by my writer name. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.

"Oi, Mariko!"

Okay that was it. I heard it, a feminine voice which was so familiar to me because I have been listening to that said voice for days already, and I heard it from outside my ear and not inside my head. I lifted my head, long black locks sliding down to my cheek. Turning my head to the side to see who called me, I almost jumped from my seat to see who it was. Standing before me was a woman, around five feet five inches, with pure fair skin free from any blotches or anomalies. Her vermillion hair flowed down seamlessly from her head down her shoulders, and her azure eyes were looking down on me icily. The white chiffon floral top and black knee-length skirt the girl was donning were too familiar --- I saw it in Pinterest one too many times. No, I made her wear that one time.

"You've got to be kidding me!" I exclaimed, with color leaving my visage as there was a stampede in my chest. Right before me at that moment was my creation, Tsuna, and with the look she gave me she was not impressed. "You've got to be kidding me!" I repeated, tapping my cheeks to make sure I was awake, and I was. "How can this even be?! You're just a fragment of my imagination, and now you're... there!" My inner senses told me to panic. A small voice inside me head told me to just enjoy this ride.

No. This could not be real... because it was impossible. I rubbed my eyes, hoping that after a few seconds the image would leave, but no, she was still standing right in front of me, and now she had her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her lips moved --- oh my God she spoke in English and with Jun Ji-hyun's voice. God, this could not be happening, because... because.... this might qualify me to have a slot or a room in a mental asylum which was a three-hour drive from my place.

"What are you doing?" those were the words that escaped her lips. It sounded more of mocking me than questioning me of ... well... what I was doing. I could not answer. I was still ... dazed... seeing something from my mind became so... real... until I questioned the coffee that I took earlier --- was it laced with LSD?

I might be losing my mind.... not that I haven't before... but...

"What are you doing?!" she asked in a more raised voice which caught me in attention. My short nails found their way on my head, scratching it as I tried to make sense of the word she said, but it seemed to irritate her. "And I thought I'm the only one who is dumb here!" she roared, "Can't you understand English?"

"I-I can," I stuttered, my brown eyes reflected Tsuna's image as I scanned her from head to foot and back up to her head of red locks again. "Are you...are you really ---"

"Tsuna? Yes. I came here to talk to you, Mariko."

"T-talk?" That was one of the scariest words I have ever heard today.
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Mariko
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Phck.
I could not look in her eyes. It was exactly what I described in one of the threads I have with Partner... arctic as the midnight on top of a mountain in Iceberg, yet as scorching hot as the midday sun in Sanzibar. It pierced through my soul and clawed the very core of my sanity. That look in her eyes made me want to kneel down on the wooden floor of my room and repent for all the shenanigans I have placed her in. My eyes were stuck on my lap, making me realize further that I have not yet changed from my blue-and-white-striped sleeping shorts. Silence was between us, until the lady decided to give me a scare by kicking on the foot of my desk. Of course, it shook. The pile of papers and folders tumbled down, making a loud thud on the floor. I found my hands on my laptop as I feared for its safety. I'm still too broke to buy a replacement.

"What are you doing?!" she asked. I swear to God that was the third time, and thus it meant that I needed to come up with something --- anything --- to satisfy her ... ugh... curiosity.

"H-holding my laptop," there was uncertainty in my voice even if I'm so sure I was holding my laptop.

Tsuna hissed, and sounded more annoyed than earlier, "Not that!"

I was confused, but I could still not look in her eyes, "Then what?"

"You're thinking of calling my story an Arc fail."

Oh, so that was what she was referring to? It was a relief to hear that it was what she meant, but in the same time my brain froze for a few seconds. How come she knew? If I tell her what I was thinking, would she even understand?

"Why did you even think of killing me off?" that was her follow-up question. I was still stuck on the first question. I pulled my hand off the device and rubbed my nose. "You see, Tsuna, you're getting harder to portray. That, and I don't have confidence on your material."

She growled. All I was waiting that time was for her to hit me with her 20 Strength stat and that this whole insanity would end. "I'm not being hard to play, you're just looking at too many things."

Looking at too many things? Wait, what did she mean? And what does this OC of mine know about writing? I created her dumb, she could not even pronounce cholera, and now she was about to tell me something about writing and portraying her?

"Why can't you write the way you used to?" she asked, her tone starting to get a little softer than earlier, like she would not kill me right now but maybe later. "Before, whenever I see you, your eyes light up as you weave your words. There was anticipation; and everything you make me do was just for your pleasure. Why is it now that whenever we meet, all I can see from you is sadness and worry? And when you write, you don't feel every word anymore."

For the first time I pulled my head up to look at her, surprised. Her features softened as she continued to speak. "And from that sadness and worry you want to call off my story, because you're worried of expectations, of what others will say, of what Partner will say?! You don't write because of them. You write because of you. I am your muse, and all you have to look, to stare at, to mind, is me! You and I. That is all that matters!"

"I... I can't write...what I have in my head..."

"You can! You just worry of too many people, of too many things, of comparing one story to another. Stop! Just look at me. I am your muse." Her cold hands cupped my cheeks, "Why can't you trust your muse? I trusted you when you threw me in Frederick's Ghost Magic vortex to die. I trusted you when you chose Jagd Hund instead of Jagd Habricht, when the latter was way cooler. I trusted you when you gave me alter egos. I trusted your every word, your every idea, and I'm going to keep on doing so... and no one can tell you which is right and wrong because you're the one who created me. Your idea is all that matters. Stop worrying. Stop looking at everyone else, even Partner. Just focus on me. Write again. Write again without that gloom in your eyes. Write again like the first time you've found your flow; you were eager to let the words flow; you let each letter burn with your passion. Weave your words like you're making a tapestry not for others but because you want to make a tapestry for yourself. I beg you, Mariko. Write again the way you wrote months ago, where all that mattered was what you were feeling, what you wanted, and not what others would say. Do not escape by calling it quickly a failure, or killing me. Escape isn't the answer. "

The clear vision started to blur with the tears that formed in my eyes.
Edited by Mariko, Sep 26 2016, 05:56 AM.
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