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shadowofthelamp · 4 years

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I’ve been meaning to write this for a few weeks, but haven’t really had the chance, and figure I might as well do it now. Writing out things about how and why I relate to/like characters is something that’s always helped me when creating my own projects, both character-based fanfiction and original stuff because it shakes out what appeals to me and why.

Anyways, this is a specific analysis of why IZ matters to me, a lot. Strap in y’all, you’re getting context. 1500 words of it. Warnings for uh.... bullying, mental illness, that whole shebang. If you could like if you read I’d appreciate it.

It’s a bit difficult to detangle exactly how you felt years ago, especially when you had undiagnosed mental illness at the time. The concrete details are this: I found IZ when I was about 11/12 years old, because some kids in my class wore Gir shirts a lot. (Thanks, guys, for being polite and explaining it to me when I asked about them!)

Something about it just clicked. The only fandom I’d been involved in before that point was Sonic, and then, it was pretty one-sided: I would consume content, but only occasionally made any of my own, and I never talked to anyone. It mattered to me sure, probably almost as much as IZ did, but for different reasons that aren’t really relevant here.

To set the scene: I was 12, bullied, depressed because of said being bullied, anxious for the same reason, and the only friends I had were all just the losers nobody else would talk to. One regularly physically pushed me around and bit me and I took it because everyone else thought I was a weirdo freak, and the other two were mostly just her friends and tolerated me. (Sidenote: Turns out she had mental stuff of her own, but geez, she needed to be helped because it was never a secret she was hurting me.)

Teachers were somewhat torn on me most of the time, because I was clearly very smart and participated in class often, but had a trigger temper that other students used to bully me, and often the teacher’s response was to blame both of us if someone riled me up to the point of snapping back. I still have problems with trusting any authority figures with any problems because of this.

I was also taught to not trust people who are being nice to me, because again, I was desperate for social interaction that wasn’t Bitey the One Friend, and that was used to pretend to compliment or talk to me and then laugh behind my back about it. I’m still seriously working through this one. I probably should talk to someone about it, honestly.

So, uh. Yeah, with that as a guideline, it’s not really a surprise I latched on to IZ. Dib was the smart yet neurotic one that was desperate to prove himself to adults that never listened, and Zim was loud and aggressive and everyone seemed to hate him even as he stumbled through everything, never really realizing just how broken he was. I’d never seen characters like that before, and I especially related to Dib.

The setting also was something I hadn’t really seen before, and it got to me in a way I can’t fully explain. It was dirty and angry and stupid and sad and felt the way I did. This was how the world came across to me at the time, as something broken and unfair, with everyone in power either willfully ignoring me yelling that something was wrong, that either everything around me was broken or I was.

I joke constantly about Dib’s Birthday, the first IZ fic I ever wrote. I’m probably never going to reread it and it’s going to rot unfinished on ffnet until the servers crash, but I found a doc where I went through the first two chapters before dying of Old Writing-Itis, and... honestly, from what I do remember? It was using the characters specifically to work through this stuff that I didn’t have any other outlet for at the time. I had a brother who knew/cared so little about me that years later he told me he never knew I ever had any problems despite the fact that I was by 14, before I started getting meds and therapy, somewhat suicidal. (The bullying had eased as I’d forced myself to blend into the background and no one cared about me anymore, but the ‘no friends and depression’ hadn’t.)

And this is where we get to the shipping stuff. ‘The world is terrible and our brains are fucked and kinda broken but at least I have you, someone who understands me’ honest to god was a lifeline at that point to me, and I don’t think anything else could have delivered it quite like Za/Dr did. I don’t doubt a lot of the fics were people channeling stuff, same way I was. I’ve noticed that, much like Yugioh, this is a fandom with a lot of people that have Stuff Going On they put in, because mental illness is a theme in the show, as little as it’s thoughtfully explored. Sort of a ‘well, we’ve got the blocks, let’s take it and use it to build our own catharsis.’

I’ve also noticed I tend to keep them the age I am- when I was about 13, they were show-aged. The one I found from when I was 14, I made Dib 14/15. And I’ve expressed I kind of regret not making Dib in AiP match my age now- 20, going on 21.

I feel like I’m exaggerating a little, and maybe I am since this is my experiences told through the funhouse mirror of fractured memory, but I also talked to myself. Like, a fair amount. Out loud. I could go entire days without talking to any other students unless I was forced to, because no one would ever talk to me first or respond if I tried, so I was sort of in a ‘why even bother?’ mode by freshman year. Everyone knew me, and already was afraid of or weirded out by me because of how often I was in and out of the principal’s office.

(The biggest chunk of the bullying, besides name-calling and the other typical stuff, was riling me up and then getting me in trouble for snapping back. It was the same people over and over, so it took less and less to get me angry over time, so by fourth or fifth grade I was going off over seemingly nothing, but really, it was just piling a bunch of sticks on top of every other thing that had already been hurled at me, so I looked like rigged dynamite but they never looked who was lighting the matches.)

JTHM was pretty important to me for similar reasons as IZ, although that was more catharsis, the idea of just being able to get rid of people who were hurting me. I’ve said before the ‘I wish someone would just turn me off and... fix me’ panel was another one of those ‘holy shit someone else knows this feeling’ moments.

Things finally started turning around for me at about 15 when I just broke down crying at a family event and my mom pulled me aside and I was sent to therapy and got medication. Long story short, it worked, and I’m mostly better on the depression front.

Bringing this back around to IZ, it’s been kind of incredible to come back and have the fandom be- well, honestly, I can’t ever remember it being this active. I was terrified to interact directly in a way that wasn’t reading things and pushing my own content out into the void, not talking to anyone one on one. By 13, I was better about it, and soon before 14 was when I made my tumblr and started actually talking to people. I recently stumbled across age discourse from that time through tumblr’s ‘more posts like this’ function and it kind of surprised me, but I guess it’s always been there.

I’ve said before that when I remove the rose-colored glasses, my experiences weren’t always great. FC hate was something that kept me from making ocs until just a few years ago, and shipping hate was often homophobia-related. But death threats and shit were not as common, nor was the rigid 'if you like this you’re a terrible person’.

I’m just gonna end this with saying yeah, without this series I may not have had the feeling of being genuinely understood or the outlet I needed for a bunch of shit going on at the time, so IZ is really really important to me and people who shit on a ship that helped me a lot because of something that the creator said nearly 20 years after the fact can eat my ass.

#this ends kinda ship discourse related but uh #yeah #iz blogging #iz

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forkanna · 7 years

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I actually didn't see much of her for the next week. First and foremost, because Comeau took a week off to go do something arty so his shifts fell in my lap, and secondly because…

Well, I don't know. She just wasn't around. It started to worry me after the first few days. Did I just act too surly and actually drive away the only ray of sunshine in my otherwise drab world? Listen to me wax fucking poetic. Been talking to Steph too much, maybe.

But when she popped back up again, it was where I was least expecting it.

I had gone into Tim Horton's to use the washrooms — that's all, I think they're just barely better than the swill at Starbucks and equally overpriced. While I was peeing, I heard from the next stall…

"KIM?!"

So this next thing isn't all that easy for me to tell you about. I let out a HUGE fart. I mean, she literally scared it out of me so I think I can be forgiven, but the entire washroom went pretty quiet right after that was pretty loud. Just about the most embarrassing moment of my short, sweet existence.

Clearing my throat, I tried to make my voice higher and reedier, like an old lady's voice. "Sorry, dear, I don't know who Kim is!"

"Come on, Kim, I know it's you! I can see that freckle on your toe!" My toes scrunched in on themselves, digging into the flip flops. "Too late!"

"Why would you even have noticed that?!" I demanded, hating that she caught me like this. Seriously, if the toilet flushed and sucked me down into an unknown subspace pocket, I'd have been grateful.

"Last week, while we were kicking back at your coffee table and listening to music?" Her running shoes scuffed nervously at the tile. "Noticed you have a freckle there since we weren't doing much of anything else. Dunno why, guess I just think it's cute."

"I have plenty of freckles. Why is this one cute?"

"Because it's in the middle of your middle toe? Not really sure…" Then I heard her flush. "So, whatcha up to?"

"Trying to pee. Which I did, a little prematurely. But at least I already had my pants down, so I guess it could have been way worse. Why, what about you?"

As I emerged from the stall, I expected her to be out there already. But she was going, "Hang on, just getting things situated…" There was a little rustling, and then she emerged with her arms spread wide, as if giving a glorious reveal…

Wearing a barista uniform. For the antichrist conglomerate slowly devouring Canada.

"You work here now?!" I exclaimed, glancing up and down the brown-and-black uniform, at the little visor perched atop her head. "Why? I thought you had a job at Second Cup."

"I had to quit when I went to uni," she said reasonably as she went to wash her hands, glancing down at her slacks and then back over at me when I joined her at the sink. "But um, I wanted to have a little more spending money when I get back for my second year, y'know? And Second Cup is fully staffed right now, and so is Delicious Cup — I already asked. And with Julie working there…"

"Nah, I get you." Seriously, somebody needed to smack some sense into Powers.

Towelling off her hands, she asked, "What are you doing here? I thought you hated Timmy."

"Well, 'hate' is a strong word…" An accurate one. Though I'll admit, I got some really shitty service in Montreal one year that kind of solidified it from disinterest to hate. "Just needed to use the can."

"Right. Well, we do have one of those!"

"Yeah. Um…" My voice was quavering a little, I felt stupid. "Sorry for… y'know, when I…"

"Didn't say 'pardon me'? It's cool," she laughed. A sigh of relief erupted from me; I really was grateful she didn't make me say it, or say it herself. "This is the place to do that, right?"

Nodding, I towelled off myself. It was weird. We were being weird, and I couldn't quite figure out why… until she put her finger on it for us.

"But yeah, starting the job has been pretty crazy. I meant to drop by sometime this week, but with work, and my mom's birthday, and stuff…"

"Oh, don't worry about it," I said with a smile of relief. She wasn't ditching me. That shouldn't have mattered as much as it did, but I was seriously soothed to know that. "Been quiet around No-Account." At the last second, I stopped myself from adding "without you" to the end of that.

"I'm really, really sorry. But I can make up for it! This week is less crazy. Wanna go to the zoo?"

For some reason, that made me chuckle. Something I almost never do lately, and her suggestion of going to the zoo was enough. "Really? But it's so far away, and so pricey…"

"I just got my first paycheck. My treat, to make up for being gone lately."

"Well…" Again, she did that weird thing where she enchanted me with her warmth and enthusiasm so much that I couldn't say 'no'. "What day? I'll probably be working."

"Then you pick. I get off at five today, so that's not enough time, but I'm off Saturday…"

"Me, too. Around noon?"

"Sure," she answered with that sweet, shy smile that made me want to flush her down the can. "Meet up there, or at your place first?"

"We can just meet there." I turned toward the washroom door, but something was holding me back. "Um…" I wanted to say something about how much I missed her, even though I didn't fully comprehend why. "Hey…" I wanted her to know that despite how shitty of an attitude I had sometimes, I really truly valued our fucked-up, almost-one-sided friendship.

And while I was stammering, trying to get past my hangups, she hugged me from behind. "Yeah." Then she released me and held the door open. "My break's probably way over by now."

"Right," I sighed. "Go back to slinging brown water. See you tomorrow."

"See ya!"

And she went back behind the counter, while I went down the street shaking my head so violently that it almost came loose and bounced across to the other side.

~ o ~

The zoo was fine. I'd visited it before, of course, but it had been years. More or less you can expect the animals to do the same things they did the last time, so it's not like a repeat visit will reveal anything new.

But the animals ranged from cute to interesting; giraffes and cheetahs and hyenas, oh my. Knives wanted to look at literally everything, and who was I to stop her? This was the reason we came, so it would be dumb for even me to act like that was strange of her. Meanwhile, I walked around with an iced capp I got from near Tundra Trek and mostly watched her reactions, skipping around in that white babydoll tee and jean shorts, eyes wide and mouth flapping about how much fun she was having, and how big this animal was or how small that one was. That was the real attraction for me.

Which began to worry me a little. Really, this whole thing with Knives already did. Not because I was developing some big gay crush; I didn't think that was it, and I'm no homophobe. But if I wasn't crushing on her, then what was I doing? This was such a weird friendship, and kind of the opposite of the casual relationship I normally enjoyed with my sparse acquaintances. Something about it was so… intense. But that was probably all Knives, and very little from my end. She was a force of nature.

Once we had seen and done most of everything there was to do without paying extra, like buying souvenirs that nobody would care about in two days, we headed back to catch the bus toward our respective homes. When she brought up dinner, I almost jumped on it.

"Let's do Sneaky Dee's. It sucks, but if we get there early enough, it might not be deafening and full of annoying college kids."

"Like me?"

"Yes, like you. One is enough."

"Hmm, I was gonna head back to my house, but…" Her cheeks bunched in a smile. "You think we could get Stephen or Julie to show up? Make it a real reunion."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess."

Her smile slipped a notch. "Do you not want them to come?"

"Nah, it's fine. Even if Julie is a cunt lately, especially to you."

"That's just Julie," she laughed it off. Not that I thought she should have; the way she acted toward Knives was totally unacceptable, and I still wanted to give her a piece of my mind about it. "Just Stephen then."

Shrugging, I stretched my arms overhead and crossed them behind my neck as we rode along. "What about Neil?"

"He probably wouldn't want to see me. Too many awkward memories." Then she cleared her throat to push past that detail. "Steph could come, though."

"Sure. She's been acting like she wants to hang outside of practices and shit lately. So… I'll invite her, maybe Stephen and Joseph. Julie can eat a bag of dicks."

That seemed to startle her slightly. At first, I thought maybe I had gone too far, but instead she whispered, "I've never heard that phrase before. It's hilarious! Because like, a whole bag of dicks!" She giggled, and I giggled with her. Sometimes I just couldn't help it around that doofus.

~ o ~

Not too much later, we were in Sneaky Dee's. It's kind of a grubby hole, but the food is pretty good, drinks are medium-cheap and sometimes they play decent music. Steph showed and so did Stephen, though Joseph stayed back because he was busy "mixing". Probably a lie, but who cares? Knives made a dumb joke about "Steph and Stephen", which made Steph laugh while Stephen and I just rolled our eyes at each other.

It was nice. We talked about the Sex Bob-omb days, and the Sonic and Knuckles days before that. Made noises about getting a band together ourselves, but with Dynamite Headdy doing as well as it was, Stephen had no real motivation to spin more plates.

Everything was going fine… until we started talking more in-depth about the end of Sex Bob-omb.

"Haven't heard from him since then," Stephen confirmed as we stared at the mostly-empty plates, patting our stomachs. In his case, scratching at his stubble. "Can you live in subspace? Like, I still don't really understand that whole thing very well."

"No, I don't think it's a place you get to stay," I went on. "Of course, I've only been there once or twice. Scott dragged me through a door so we could escape from a crazy samurai." I tried not to glance at Knives, and she didn't seem to notice, either.

"I think there are subspace pockets along with the highways," she said as she sipped at her lemonade. Guess she was serious about not drinking. "But there aren't buildings or restaurants or anything there. So they must be living somewhere in normal space, right?"

Steph shrugged, leaning against the table on her elbows. "Wouldn't know. Never had much experience with it myself. So Scott dragged you through, Kim?"

My body was already freezing up, a response to being needled about my past with Scott so much. "Yeah."

"He was always kind of self-centered, in that dopey, doesn't-realise-he-is way," she mused as she stared across the restaurant at the back of the neon sign in the window. "Even when you two were dating…"

"Oh yeah," Knives said as she turned to me. "You never talked about that much." And I didn't want to now. But she wasn't going to let it drop, was she?

"What is there to say? He was an idiot, I was an idiot for not seeing how much of one he was. He liked to pretend that he rescued me from Simon to make himself more 'heroic'. I'm better off without him."

"That's what you say about Jason, too," he laughed, and I felt myself growing even more earnest in my desire to be silent and not have to react to any of this. "And… that's probably true. Sometimes I worry about Hollie going through the same thing eventually."

"She deserves it. They both do."

Pointing her fork at me, Steph said, "You always do that. Blame everyone else for all your problems. Not saying they're all your fault, either, just… maybe the truth is somewhere in the middle?"

"Always," Stephen sighed.

"Well, I think you guys are being too hard on Kim," Knives put in with a little pout, picking at the communal plate of nachos. "Scott dumped me, too, and he wasn't very smart about how he did it, but that's just Scott; he doesn't know how to handle serious stuff until he can't avoid it, I think. That's not her fault."

"Yeah, you and she both dated Scott," Steph said with a slightly suspicious smile. "Funny that you're hanging out together now, despite that."

"Why is it funny?" It was a genuine question, not an accusation. Of course it was. Knives was such a wide-eyed marshmallow.

"Uhhh, because normally you don't get along with your ex's exes?"

Shrugging, Stephen grumbled, "I get along with Julie better than most of you do."

"That's because you turned out to be gay."

"What does that have to do with it? We still broke up when I started dating Joseph."

"Have you ever noticed all our names start with an S, a K, or a J?" Knives observed out of nowhere.

"Yeah… well, except for Neil."

"Or those other guys," Steph said. "Like Lucas Lee, and the other people who Scott beat up?"

Stephen shook his head. "No, they don't count."

"Why not?"

"They aren't part of 'us', they're the bad guys," he went on reasonably, gesturing to the table with an open palm as if the gesture would help sell his argument. "But then they still do that supervillain thing." When both Steph and Knives kept staring at him in confusion, he sat up a little straighter in the hard wooden booth. "You know… Lucas Lee, Roxie Richter, Gideon Graves… Ken and Kyle Katayanagi. That thing."

"Alliteration," she breathed. "The highest form of evil."

"Ohhhhh," Knives said with a hand in front of her open mouth. "That's so weird how I never noticed! But what about Todd Ingram? I mean, I hearted The Clash At Demonhead, so I remember him better…"

"He's the outlier. I mean, not every villain has to adhere to the trope for it to be a trope."

"What's a trope?" Steph asked. But Stephen wasn't listening; he was staring at me, eyes squinting slightly. I tried to ask what he was staring at…

But I couldn't. My lips wouldn't move, and my eyes wouldn't blink. Nothing happened despite my best efforts.

"Oh shit," he whispered. "Kim turned to stone again."

To Be Continued…

#kim pine's precious little knives #kim pine #forkanna writes #scott pilgrim vs. the world #knives chau #forkanna the writer

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