Eddie Spinola

What is a gimmick of all things?

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Another gentle laugh and she looked down. It was funny. She had spent a lot of time around boys and had never gotten over the sort of shyness she felt now. But then again, perhaps that was because they were boys and the people who made her feel shy were invariably men. (Once or twice women, but mostly men.) "Lemme see what I can come up with. Maybe I can get Drake to conjure you an aquarium one where the fish actually swim around. Or something."

She lifted her chin slightly at the question, brow furrowing thoughtfully. "It's mixed, like everything else in life. He's distant, and I don't agree with his politics or how he's acted on them in the past. But he's really admirable in a lot of ways too."

A slow nod as she listened to him. He was laying it out frankly and she appreciated it. She was only idealistic in some ways. "Chances are I'll study something involving chaos theory, because getting a science background to go with the magical and psychic one seems like a good definition of "well rounded". After that...I don't know, I could do all sorts of things. Including becoming a Wall Street consultant." Screw that, by that point she figured she could manipulate the stock market directly.

"Or, seriously, maybe I'll hit Monte Carlo and make myself rich. Then I can do the hero thing full time."

Edited Date: 2011-07-16 06:45 pm (UTC)

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sharpememory.livejournal.com

I hope so too. Thanks for the help.

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A gimmick. It's like a plan or an image that you think of or construct for yourself -- or for something.. anything, really -- that you use to make it more attractive or appealing, generally to help it sell better. In my world, because there were so many companies to choose from and so many people trying for the same job and everything like that, gimmicks became the catchy way to sell people. If you weren't the smartest or the most attractive, you came up with an image to make people think you were.

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Anytime. And I mean that.

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So you lie?

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Yeah. Statistically, twenty percent of all conversations include deception of some kind, meaning you run into, on average, two to five different lies per day. The only reason you keep trusting people is because you believe--and I mean people, not just you--that if people are honest in one situation, they'll continue to be that way because we like to sort people and believe them to be consistent. It's easier on our minds that way.

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That, I can understand.

I just never heard it described as 'gimmicks' before.

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Well, a gimmick is a special kind of lie, like a facade or a 'white lie.' People like classifying things to justify them easier.

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You mean like acting like a proper Swatchman when you're really sneaking your own Green at night?

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sharpememory.livejournal.com

Thanks, man.

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I hesitate to say yes without really understanding what you mean.

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Oh. Well... A Swatchman is a doctor. Green is a painkiller.

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Maybe. Or it could be that you are a Swatchman and you admit to sneaking Green because it's something no one else does and some people might like that kind of rebellion.

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But that would get you demerited so much it'd be instant... yes.

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I'm glad we're coming to understand each other.

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"I'm sure it will be great," he offered lightly, not really giving more thought to it. Eddie couldn't really imagine a tie that moved the way she was describing, outside of what glimpses he'd caught of the idea in some films. He still wasn't sure how he felt about all that magic stuff, though, so he was trying not to have to bite his tongue.

"A lot of bad people are admirable. I know that seems contradictory to most people, but it's true. Everyone that succeeded at being bad or evil for any length of time with any sense of power had to get there for a reason, whether it was Hitler, your dad, or the CEO of Enron. They're usually charming, strong people that have a gift for talking to others.. among other things. There's nothing wrong with admiring that as long as you still appreciate how they are." He paused, then added: "I'm not saying your dad is one of those guys, because I don't know. He sounds like he might be a little like that, though, so just make sure you're careful and really think about how he is versus who you want to be, you know?"

Of course, Eddie himself was closer to that person now than he had ever been in his life, gladly willing to sacrifice people when it was necessary to his gain of power. Until then, he liked keeping people on his good side, though, and that meant not revealing those pieces of himself.

"That sounds good. There's a lot of scholarships available for women in science, too, because it's pretty rare. I'm sure you would have an easier time than most people. With the gambling thing, though, just be careful that people will still respect you. It's not worth making your money fast and easy if that's what people are going to remember about you."

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"Yeah, Father he's...everything a mutant should be and nothing a mutant should be all rolled into one." She loved him, but hated his politics and what he had done for them. "I don't have any illusions about him, but everyone who knows him is ambivalent about him." She had no illusions about him that she knew about, anyway.

She frowned softly, looking skyward, and took another sip of wine. "Easy or tough, I'll rise to it. I always do." For a moment there was a flash of cold pride in her eyes. There was more to Wanda than the innocent girl; the steel showed, and then she glanced away shyly and it disappeared again.

"No, no. Vegas would be seed money only. That and help funding my second job, which probably won't pay."

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"Don't you turn out like him. Take everything you like about him and nothing that you don't and mold yourself into that person that you want to be." He flashed a grin. When Wanda looked up toward the sky, Eddie straightened back from her a little, taking a very small sip of his own wine. It wasn't that he was opposed to drinking, but there could be some side effects with his medication if he wasn't careful.

"What second job did you have in mind?" Eddie asked, trying to keep the conversation going despite his hopes declining a little of getting much further than talking on this date. He expected she might be talking about the hero gig, but there was no harm in clarifying and it was always easier to let other people do as much of the talking as possible for as often as he liked to talk.

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"I don't plan to. He's too much of a rigid extremist and I am not down with hurting people. I have to be flexible and take people as individuals, even if it is extra work and risk." The wine was good. She had to keep herself down to nursing it slowly, because she was a huge lightweight.

"The heroing business. I've done it some. The problem is that like I said, it does not pay." She felt a slight pang as he moved away, but chipping through the wall of her shyness would take time. It frustrated her, but she was glad as hell that he seemed to respect that.

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"Well, you have to hurt some people. It's a good goal not to hurt everyone, of course, but make sure you're keeping things realistic too. It's only a matter of time until you're put into a situation where you're forced to choose and each options hurts people. Unless you're talking about physically hurting people. That's probably more rare-- Although, if you're going into the super hero business then you may have to get used to that too since you'll probably have to help apprehend criminals or villains or whatever it is they're called in the real world where super hero vigilantes exist."

It's practically a ramble, the stream of consciousness pouring out of Eddie as he thought of it. Then he set his wine glass down near the bottle--ensuring it was steady without taking noticeable time of effort to do so--and sat up, pulling his knees up just to form a different posture and keep from getting stiff.

He made a mental note to get regular access to the pool to build his muscles' endurance.

"What are you hoping to find here, besides control over your powers? There must be something else."

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"Well, then I can only do my best." She lapsed into thought for a few moments, covering with a sip of her wine. "I'm not a complete pacifist, not by a long shot. Sometimes magic is not going to be enough to subdue someone and I'll have to learn to actually kick some ass."

She tilted her head.

"How to live among different races. How to choose my own path without falling back on what Father wants for me. How to not be the bad guy, I guess, since I have plenty of practice in that. I also have to catch up on my schooling. I..."

She trailed off. Why hadn't she finished high school? Why hadn't she gone to high school period? It was like a blank spot in her head, and her expression grew troubled as she explored it.

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"Different races?" He asked as soon as she had finished speaking, caught up on that little detail. Did those with abilities really see themselves as a different race? Eddie saw himself as better than everyone else when he was on NZT, sure, because he really was, but that didn't make him any more or less human. Just.. better at winning.

Then he forced himself to review the rest of what she had said in order to comment on the idea as a whole. His lips tightened a little as he saw the very subtle shift in her expression and remembered that she had trailed off.

"You...?" He encouraged her to finish the thought.

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"In my world we've got humans, and two sort of offshoot races--mutants and neogens. We have vampires, we have insular groups with different magical traditions, we have aliens...most of these beings exist in secret, but when you're a mutant you run into all the weirdness eventually." She drained the last of her wine.

"Mutants and humans are the only ones "out" and they don't get along on a political level. Personal, sure, but there's anti-mutant legislation being pushed in Congress, we were kicked out of school--stuff like that."

No, the X-teens were kicked out. I wasn't there to begin with. But why?

"I was...digging for the reason I didn't finish high school, and I couldn't find it. I probably am just being absentminded but that seems kind of..." Kind of important to forget. "What the hell?"

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