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It was always an event whenever Louie got out of the house. Mostly because he rarely ever got out of the house for anything except adventures, and classifying those as 'events' was really the only way Louie could stay sane. Sure, he tolerated them, but as time went on he more and more preferred staying in his room (usually in bed) to getting chased through the halls of a decrepit dungeon swarming with mummies.
Which is why it was a little odd that he was out of the house now, just- walking down the street. In Duckburg. No adventures in sight. Almost no family in sight either, which was probably why no adventures were spontaneously occurring. Webby was walking with him since they were headed to the Sabrewing house and she had a 'it's-not-a-date-you're-just-being-silly-obviously-Lena-doesn't-like-me-like-that-you-fool-we're-just-hanging-out-and-maybe-kissing' date with Lena, but he was headed over for his own reasons. (The reason Webby didn't cause adventures to spontaneously occur whenever he walked around with her was because everything was an adventure to her, so the world didn't have to work too hard to keep her preoccupied.)
He was currently listening to music to drown out most of what Webby was saying -she asked him to because she'd known she was going to talk too much about Lena- as they approached the Sabrewing house, decently sized for a family of four where two of the four were obsessed with experimenting with reality, and Webby rang the doorbell.
"Hellooooooooo, Mr. or Mr. Sabrewing?" Webby called out, loud enough for Louie to hear clearly through the headphones. "It's Webby! The secret code is 'Pineapple banana-cake is good enough for many mouths!'"
Louie shook his head quietly as he took out his earbuds. The Sabrewings didn't actually have a secret code for getting in their home. They'd just learned early on that it was better to humor Webby than not.
They were left waiting for a few moments and Webby had to resist the urge to buzz the doorbell repeatedly, her head swiveling around as she observed the goings on of the neighborhood with fascination and wonder. A man gardening, a cheap above ground sprinkler ticking away, a group of kids playing with a soccer ball, the passage of an old sedan with mismatched doors - all of that provided enough stimulation to keep her attention (and thusly keep Louie’s ears safe from being talked off for another day), though he could see her webbed foot tapping impatiently despite it.
The door opening pulled her back to the moment though, releasing the tension from her shoulders as they were welcomed by the skinnier of the two adult Sabrewings, Indy, who -instead of bothering to make small talk- merely made a welcoming rotation of his hand as an invitation to step over the threshold with a hop and a skip. The sounds of loud music being played emanated through the open door from downstairs - it was relatively easy to guess where one of his daughters was.
Webby immediately started to bound inside, all outside sensations forgotten, before pausing and looking back to Louie. "You'll be fine on your own, right?" She asked concernedly. “You’re not gonna get attacked? Or randomly choke on your own spit and die?”
Louie gave her a flat look. "I’m not that bad at not dying, Webs.”
"You are, but let’s pretend you’re not so I can go see Lena. Bye!!" Webby dashed away, the hyperactive girl immediately going to find her totally-not-a-girlfriend girlfriend.
Louie just rolled his eyes at her as he stepped inside, nodding to Indy. "Sup. Where's Violet?"
"Good afternoon to you too." Indy said dryly with a small turn of his head. "You'll find her upstairs, in her room. She's asked to be left alone though." He warned. "I take it that won't stop you, however."
"Don't worry about me, I've got lockpicks." Louie assured him. He gave the man a lazy salute as he followed his directions, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pocket.
The Sabrewing house was very nicely decorated. Maybe none of it was as 'shiny' or extravagant as some of the rooms in the mansion, but it definitely felt more- considered. Like the decor had a reason for being there besides 'it's either a gift Scrooge couldn't decline without looking bad or something that strokes the man's ego,' both of which tended to get a little gaudy after a while, even to Louie.
It helped that the walls weren't just a boring beige brown and were instead a nice blue-ish color. It made the place feel soft, if maybe a bit smaller than it actually was.
He headed up to Violet's room, which currently had a 'No Entry' sign placed on it. He snorted.
"That sign won't stop me, I can't read." Maybe there was nobody around to hear him joke, but so what? That's when they were at their best.
Louie pulled out his lockpicks and fiddled with Violet's door for a few moments, taking his time until he heard the tumblers click into the unlocked position. Bracing himself for anything (and he did mean anything- this was Violet he was talking about), he carefully opened the door and peeked inside.
The lack of fumes or weird smells leaking out around the door meant that, at the very least, whatever she was doing probably didn't include chemistry or volatile substances, but it was a bit hard to tell just by looking. The curtains had been drawn and the only source of illumination -besides the small flickers of flame from glass jars that looked like they were bought on discount from the Yankee Candle store- was a single desk lamp that was pointed towards a wall to provide diffused lighting.
In and amongst the shadows, Louie could spot Violet on the floor, stretched out on her back, eyes closed and fingers massaging the space between her eyes. A pile of books flanked her and blocked off access to her bed, and neat piles of paper with tight cramped handwriting provided additional obstruction to get to the expansive shelving installed over her desk and dressers that held hundreds of books and small projects in various states of assembly. Behind her head, pointed away from her, was her phone, which was currently playing a selection of lofi hip hop beats to study and/or relax to.
"I'm busy. Please leave." She stated to the air without opening her eyes or sitting up, indicating that she was at the very least aware that her door had been opened. Better than nothing.
"Funny. If I looked like that, 'busy' would be the last adjective I'd use." Louie remarked, completely ignoring Violet's wishes to instead move fully inside the room. He did shut the door behind himself, though, which he considered to be very generous.
"I'm thinking . It's something that requires a great deal of energy - which is probably why you don't do it very often." Violet said, and from the slight change in the tone of her voice and choice in words, it was clear that she was trying her very hardest to communicate to the other teenager that she would very gladly gouge someone's (his) eyes out with a rusty spoon rather than talk right now.
That was a risk one had to take when approaching Violet. You had to treat her with respect and care, otherwise the encounter could quickly become dangerous.
"You look less like you've been thinking and more like you got hit in the head with a baseball bat." Louie wasn't really one for 'respect and grace' anyways.
He moved over to her currently unused bed, gently moving a couple books so as to give him a good spot to sit on. "Lemme guess- put your phone on silent so that your music wouldn't get disturbed?"
"Louie. I will pay you one hundred dollars to go away." Violet said, one eye opening to glare up at him.
"Genuinely, I would love to take that, but you know the rule." Louie replied. He held up his phone, showing her the multiple unread texts he'd sent. "Five unread texts over the course of twenty-four hours, and you've earned yourself a mandatory check-in."
He tilted his head to the side. "That, and I doubt you actually have a hundred dollars."
"Hmf." Violet snorted, breathing out through her nostrils before putting her hands down by her sides. "That is a bald faced lie - you know how much is in my bank account down to the last penny, or I'm a Panda." She asserted. She opened both eyes and turned her head -slightly- towards the young Duck. "...There's nothing you or another member of your family needs me for, I presume?"
"Not that I know of, so no."
That was a lie. Technically there were about five different things going on that could use Violet's help: there was a banshee stalking the airfield, a vampire had kidnapped Dewey, Huey was getting a little bit too enveloped in figuring out some mystical portal and was practically guaranteed to get sucked up into it and have to go on a whole 'coming of age' adventure to make friends and family and save the world he'd found only to sacrifice himself at the climax and never be able to go back once he saved them all (for the third time), and that was only scratching the surface.
But they could all deal with that themselves, and Violet certainly didn't look like she was in a space where she could help. "Also I'm pretty sure it's 'bold-faced lie,' not 'bald-faced lie.'" He pointed out.
"You're wrong but I'm choosing to not humiliate you for your lack of knowledge of the English language." The Sabrewing said before looking back up at the ceiling. "I am very sorry for ignoring you and others’ attempts to contact me. And I will be happy to respond to your memes - after."
"Great! Not the point." Louie hopped up from the bed and walked over to her, standing over her head so she was forced to continue looking at him. "You know damn well you can't escape this. Think of all the times you've hounded me when I refuse to get outta bed."
"I'm not in bed." She pointed out. Violet cut him off with a raised finger before he could snark. "But you won't accept semantics as an excuse even if you'll gladly offer them up as one." The fact that Violet didn't emote much couldn't hide the distinct note of bitterness to Louie. "Unless you have become well versed in theoretical thaumaturgy, or developed an unexpectedly thorough understanding of Tibetan mysticism, I'm afraid you can't help me."
"And yet, here I am. About helping you. Also pot-kettle-black, you love using semantics and never accepting them as excuses." Louie said. He moved over to her window, fingering the blinds.
"Have you even slept since you started- 'thinking?'" He asked. "If you get a glimpse of sunlight you won't go all vampire on me?"
"I won't crumble into dust, but you will be invigorating my headache." She said, and with a small huff pushed herself into an upright position. "I have a Seasonal Affective Disorder -or SAD- lamp that can provide an acceptable imitation of sunlight with lower intensity, however. If you must disrupt my circles, you can at least use that." Violet raised a finger. "That's a joke, by the way. A reference to a phrase attributed to Archimedes of Syracuse before he was stabbed in the back."
"Not sure which phrase you're talking about there but okay." Louie was pretty sure Archimedes of Sycamore or whatever hadn't had any lamps. Lightbulbs came after him, if Huey was to be believed. He let go of the blinds for now. "You even take any ibuprofen yet?"
"... I don't have any in my room." His friend admitted. She looked down at her phone, which was still playing chill beats, and hesitated before reaching to pick it up and turn the music off.
She winced as she saw the text notifications currently waiting in the corner, the latest one from May appearing silently, and she put the cellphone face down against the ground rather than read it.
"You know I'll be fine, right?" She asked her friend. "I really am okay."
Louie leveled her an unimpressed look. "You remember how you treated me last time I said that to you?"
"...With concern and disapproval." Violet answered with a slight sigh, running her fingers through her hair. She collected enough strands to make a ponytail, and busied herself with focusing on that. "I doubt I look as bad as you did then, however."
"Nah, ‘course not. You look worse." Louie claimed easily. He pulled a small capsule out of his hoodie pocket and tossed it to her before heading back to the door. "Lucky for you, I had a feeling that taking some Advil from home would help. I'm gonna go get you something to wash that down with- you have anything else you were 'a little too busy' to take? Estrogen and pills and whatnot?"
"...Maybe. Bottom drawer on the left under the sink in the bathroom." Violet admitted, catching the tiny missile with the ease of someone who was physically coordinated. "I can get it myself though. You are my guest after all, I should be offering you tea. Or pie." She said, her hostility draining away.
Louie shook his head. "Nope, not hearing it. You never let me grab these things whenever you come over to my place. I'll be able to find everything quickly enough, just give me two seconds and don't dry swallow the headache pills, alright? You get on my case more than enough about doing that shit." He moved out of the room before she could respond, promising to be back in an instant.
Said 'instant' was more like three minutes (which was still a pretty decent time, by Louie’s standards) by the time he pushed his way back into her room without even bothering to knock.
The room was now light with a dim but much more consistent yellow light emitted from a small flat white screen, again pointed indirectly away. The candles had been extinguished, and some of the papers and books had been pushed aside to create a more clear path for Louie so he could lay out the bundles of stuff he’d gathered.
"Hookay, I've got some water, a couple juice boxes, the stuff you wanted from the bathroom -I'm pretty sure at least- and also a lot of food, 'cuz I'm willing to bet it's been a bit since you've eaten anything, yeah?" He asked as he dumped chip bags and other generally unhealthy snack options on the floor, as well as a decent amount of fresh fruit surprisingly.
The Hummingbird had also activated an electric kettle which was quickly building up steam and managed to locate two hand-painted mugs with red and white flowers that she was carefully laying down on the rug equidistant from each other.
"My fathers brought me GORP last night."
"I have no idea what that is." Louie admitted as he sat down, waggling a chip bag near her face. "If that's a 'normal kid' thing then you're gonna have to explain it. Even when we were cosplaying as a normal family we were still the furthest thing from 'normal.'"
"'Good Old Raisins and Peanuts.'" Violet translated, her features unamused before she arrested the rustling junkfood with her hand.
“Wouldn’t that be GORAP?”
“Coordinating conjunctions are rarely, if ever, considered a part of abbreviations.” She said, "It's normally only for when we're hiking, but sometimes I enjoy it just for its own sake." She admitted before opening the chips with an extraordinary amount of care to avoid crumbs.
"I'm sure you eat something similar when on adventures - calorie dense, high protein, stores easily."
"Eh, we don't really have a specific 'adventure food,' honestly." Louie admitted, grabbing some pillows off of her bed to act as an impromptu backrest before pulling open his own chips. "Just whatever seems smallest and most energizing that we can grab quickest from the Pre-Adventure Supermarket Trip. Those're always the best."
"Please don't tell me you're reliant on energy drinks. Those are a scam." Violet insisted as she removed the kettle from the heater.
She poured out steaming water into the two cups and added a cloth tea bag to each from a larger satchel that no doubt stored healing herbs or magic ingredients. The metric fuck ton of honey she added to one cup just came from a standard bottle shaped like a bear that she also used to add a more reserved amount of sweetener to the cup closer to Louie.
"Hey, if they're a scam that works sometimes then they're not really a scam, are they?" Louie asked as he took the cup of tea, sniffing it. "Never will get used to tea that's more than just- barely altered water."
He took a sip. Still very hot, plus it was tea. Which- Louie didn't mind it, but also it definitely wasn't Pep by any stretch of the imagination.
"Mom's been drinking energy drinks lately and says they're good, but also I think she might drink them specifically for the whole- 'crashing later and needing to sleep' thing."
"An unusual but novel approach to dealing with insomnia." Violet admitted, waiting for her own tea to steep. She moved her finger around the lip of the cup, and the contents slowly stirred themselves. "Just remember you will one day have to deal with passing kidney stones." She warned, before looking at her own collection of pills. She carefully collected them and began to sip from her cup.
"It's not actually working." Louie admitted to her, leaning back in his impromptu seat as he set the cup down. "But- you know. It's Mom. She's not actually gonna admit that it's not working until something breaks."
The room was a little stuffy, he noted, though it wasn't as bad as his room got by any means. Still, he'd have to figure out a way to get a window open somehow.
"And couldn't I just- magic the kidney stones away somehow? I'm sure that's a thing a mage has come up with."
"That depends. Would you trust a self-proclaimed 'healer' with access to your valuable internal organs?" Violet asked, raising an eyebrow as she finished the last of her meds with one more swallow.
"You have gone on record saying that you'd sell your soul to a demon for bottom surgery, you can't say anything." Louie pointed out immediately, jabbing a finger at her. "And why not? If they were hot enough I'd let them do whatever they want to my valuable internal organs."
"Then you won't mind if I borrow part of your liver." She decided, stone faced.
"Nah, you're not hot." Louie replied, just as quick. "I'm sure some people find you good-looking but I'm gay, so. You don't really got much going for me in the looks department, Vi."
"Oh, darn. I guess I'll just have to harvest them after you pass out. How is your tea by the way?"
Louie narrowed his eyes at her. "Hah hah, you're not funny. It tastes like tea." He gave it another sip. Still tea. Hopefully. "And I know you didn't drug this, it doesn't taste off in the right way."
"I think I'm hilarious, but very few people seem to share my sense of humor. Webbigail gets it though." Violet said before carefully taking the bag, leaving it propped between her knees as she began to slowly and carefully eat. "...Thank you for checking in, by the way. I appreciate that you made the trip."
Louie shrugged. "I had a good excuse, Webby was coming over too. Which, by the way- not as big of a flex as you think it is," He mentioned. "Webby grew up alone with a secretive ex-spy and a kooky old hermit. I love her to death, but her sense of humor is... eclectic, at best."
He leaned forward, grabbing a handful of chips from her bag and stuffing his face (he was careful not to get any mess on Violet's floor, of course. He may have been an asshole, but not to the point of being an even bigger problem than he was solving. Most of the time).
"So, what got you into this funk anyways?"
"It's nothing. Really." Violet insisted, suddenly demure. "I just lost track of time. It happens."
"Mhm. And you accept that excuse from me aaaaalll the time." Louie rolled his eyes as he pushed one of the juice boxes to her. "What's that thing your dad always says, again? 'There's never just 'nothing' at the center of a pearl?'"
The occultist looked away, but as she was prodded repeatedly in the knee by the boxed juice, she finally looked back to Louie, if only to accept the proffered drink.
"I doubt you'd understand or appreciate it." She said, and though the wording was once again bristling it lacked the same angry intensity from before.
"Hey, I thought you were better at telling us apart than Lena was." Louie placed a hand on his chest in mock offense. "I'm not Dewey. Try me. I mean sure, you're probably right, but still."
Violet looked at her friend very, very, hard. She had what one would normally call a penetrating stare, and while it wasn’t nearly at that level today, even now with her hair somewhat frazzled and her feathers dull, she managed to fix Louie with a gaze that felt like he was being analyzed and evaluated.
"...I'm not doing the best. In school. At magic." She finally admitted, brow furrowed. "And yes, I am aware - I am tackling a subject that has escaped true empirical understanding for millennia. And no, that doesn't make it better."
"Oh. That's the issue, huh?" Louie cocked his head to the side. She'd been right, it was pretty difficult to conceptualize Violet ( Violet ) doing poorly in school. "So we're talking like- you've been getting C's and D's and recently got your first F, then?"
"It wasn't an F. They don't use letter grading. But I'm not blind to the results I'm producing in comparison to my peers. They're... mediocre. At best." She said, and her fingers tightened around the now empty juice box, squeezing the laminated sides.
"I know, I know. I can hear what you're thinking now. The perfectionist is throwing a tantrum because she's not used to work that normally comes naturally to her, and needs to apply herself. But that's not true." Violet said, drops of apple blood dribbling down her knuckles. "I put in all of my effort. And I'm still coming up short."
Louie nodded. He could understand that- hence why he didn't like putting much effort into anything. Couldn't feel that specific brand of disappointment and self-hatred if he didn't try at all, right? (Yes he knew that wasn't actually how it worked but hush.)
"Okay. Short in comparison to whom, exactly?" He asked, messing with his tea a little. "You mentioned 'peers.' Are they actually your peers?"
"We're in the same classes, we're roughly the same age. Many were, I admit, raised with the arcane by their families, or they are imbued into their very being with magic like my sister. But there are also others who discovered the unseen forces of the world more recently than I."
"And the specifics there?" Louie asked, focusing on the last bit she mentioned. "How'd they discover magic? And don't play coy, I know you, and I know damn well you've figured out as much as you can about each and every one of them."
"...Two manifested abilities completely by accident or in a high stress situation, three were exposed to outside extra-normal forces, a second trio discovered it via rigorous academic study, and one of them just happened to find a magic artifact like myself." She rattled off.
Louie nodded, humming for a moment. He clasped his hands together and stood, to better explain his point to Violet. He spoke better when he paced. It was a thing.
"Okay. So we can already write off the majority of your class because of the whole 'they were born with magic' thing. They were born with it, and now they're learning it, so they've obviously got an advantage- think the difference between a rich person learning violin and a poor person doing the same. Most of the 'people like you' are also different- the ones that manifested abilities are more like Lena than anything else, similar with the ones exposed to supernatural forces."
He began to pace confidently around the room (as much as the scatterings of paper and books would allow). "Now- what about the ones who discovered it through study? What sort of 'academic study' were they given access to? And the one who found a magic artifact- they still have access to it, I'm assuming?"
"Well, yes. But it's nothing as impressive as the Sumerian moonstone." Violet admitted as her friend paced. "And the others... I suppose - went looking for magic, or suspected it already existed. I would have called them delusional if they weren't right."
"And they managed to luck out and find a whole treasure trove of magical hoo-hah that proved they were right and they could spend time studying easily?" Louie guessed.
"I wouldn't say it was luck, they all worked as hard as I have." She said, before raising her hand. "I won't denigrate their studies and abilities as being the result of mere happenstance."
Louie pursed his lips. "...You use such big words when you speak." He pointed out. "You can just say 'I don't wanna shit talk them just because I feel bad.' Gets the point across just as well."
"I'm using the most fitting words. You wouldn't refer to a reverse snake oil pitch as just a 'tiger rock'." Violet asserted. "Besides, people have trouble understanding me no matter what words I use. Body language, facial expressions, etcetera."
"People have trouble understanding everyone, you're just an easy target to take that frustration out on because it's slightly harder to understand you than most. Not your fault." Louie assured her as he sat back down. "And I'm not saying they didn't work hard. Contrary to Uncle Gladstone's whole shebang, you can get lucky and also work hard. They're not mutually exclusive concepts.
"And that's the thing- everyone that you've mentioned is in a different place than you." He continued. "So sure, it's easy to compare yourself to them since you're in the same class and at the same age, but you're much more different than you give yourself credit for."
"Your argument is sound, and I won't contest it." The Hummingbird said, before extending her hand to grab an orange. She rolled it between her palms before slowly peeling it, producing a long continuous ribbon of orange skin. "But that doesn't change the fact that I'm still dead last, or near to it. And I have been just sitting here, doing nothing for Darwin knows how long instead of finding a solution. I've heard you say 'work smarter, not harder' enough to know you understand the concept."
Louie channeled his inner Violet and stared at her in a way he hoped conveyed how unimpressed he was with that. "Have you been doing nothing? Really? Or have you been trying to think?"
"It's functionally the same if I'm not producing results!" She contested, and from the way her hand was shaking it was obvious to Louie that she would like to throw that orange as hard as she could at the wall.
"...I should have figured it out by now." Violet sighed, shaking just a little as she put the denuded fruit down gently.
Louie knew better than to risk pushing her buttons more. Realistically, it'd be better for him to back off and let her remain upset than to potentially aggravate her, otherwise he'd be next in line for one of her 'experiments.'
"No, you really shouldn't have. In fact, you shouldn't be doing anywhere near as good as you are." He countered. Yeah, great job at 'not being an asshole' there, Lou.
"For starters- you're younger than them." He pointed out. "I know you said 'they're about the same age as me'- bullshit, I know you're two years younger than them, you've told me before. Secondly, they've already moved on from building their bases to building their houses, and you're trying to do both at the same time."
"So your advice is what - lower my expectations?" Violet asked, disbelieving. "Just accept that I'm not going to achieve what I want because I'm at a disadvantage?"
"No, I mean like-" Louie pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He needed to reword it. Or at least explain it better. Not everyone lived inside of his head with his witty aphorisms "Okay, it's like a two-step process. Everyone you've described, they all have a base for their magic, yeah? A base outside of 'school learning.' Like Lena, for instance; her 'base' comes from Magica's 'tutoring,' your experiments, and just generally being a living and breathing magical construct.” He explained. “She can understand and control magic in a way that gives her a solid base to draw on, and now she's focusing on the details of that control, and making it even stronger- she's making a building, and using the school to do so. You with me so far?"
His friend nodded quietly. Louie really did appreciate that, unlike most people, Violet was always willing to listen to an explanation.
"So everyone else at this school, all of your 'peers,' they all have bases- be it being born with magic, having an arcane family, finding innate magic within them, even just access to really solid materials to work with. They all got to build up a base before getting to school- and you didn't!" Louie explained, gesturing forcefully to her. "Getting to this school, you didn't actually have a base with which to start construction on, and I can and will go deeper into that if I have to!"
He stood up, not even giving Violet time to say if she needed an explanation or not. "First, before the Shadow War you were under the belief that magic didn't exist at all, so you don't have the benefit of 'I always believed in it and was always searching.'" He began to count off his fingers. "Secondly, the 'source of magic' you found was Magica De Spell's cracked amulet, which both A: wasn't able to really do anything magical besides glow in the state that it was in, and B: you had to give up in order to save Lena, become friends with us, and continue learning about magic.
"Which brings me to three- being friends with us!" Louie pointed out. "Sure, being friends with the McDucks sounds like it'd be pretty helpful for figuring out magic in theory, but in practice? ”
“It has been somewhat… interesting, at times.” Violet admitted slowly.
Louie nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll say. For starters, Uncle Scrooge hates magic, so any books that we have that explain how magic works are sparse and generally just help teach how to avoid magic. Secondly, we really don't understand how magic works. It happens to us a lot, yes, but we couldn't explain the intricate differences between a fireball cast through evocation or conjuration! All we know how to do is break magic, not fix it!"
He whirled around on his feet and pulled open the window blinds so he could point out at the street, where Lena and Webby were busy walking away to go to their 'totally-not-a-date' date. "And finally you've got those two motherfuckers! Webs and Lena! Lena literally breaks 'magical laws of the universe' day in and day out, and when Webby's around that increases to every hour!”
“Ow.” Violet winced at the sunlight, but Louie wasn’t done.
"Everything that would give you a 'base' for magic has done pretty much the exact opposite. So now, as you've managed to get to a school, you need to work on your base. And meanwhile, you've also chosen to work on your building -the expansion of your magical knowledge into the field of experimentation- at the same time, since everyone else around you is. And somehow, against all odds, you've managed to keep it sturdy!
"Of course you feel like you're learning slower than everyone else, you have to. You don't have the luxuries that they do, so in order to stay steady, you have to work slower and steadier than they have to."
The steam of arguing left him pretty much as soon as he got his point across. He flopped back down onto his pillow-seat, nearly knocking over his tea and having to scramble to keep it from falling. "Ah- okay, sorry, it's all good. Did any of that make sense to you?"
Violet was quiet, processing what Louie said- honestly, she might not have even heard what he had said. She could get lost in her own head sometimes.
"So, in summary; the circumstances are what they are, and that might mean I need to go at a slower pace than others, but I'm not... fundamentally incapable." She finally concluded. "That makes sense. I might not like it. But it is better than my previous assumption: 'I blow chunks'."
Louie snorted. "What, nothing complex and sophisticated, like 'I am an undesirable mass of carbon and electricity that is simply constructed in a way that permanently and unchangeably results in me underperforming whenever I am equated to my peers?'"
"I chose words that are fitting, not just big." Violet reminded him. She turned around and carefully put herself in a supine position next to Louie.
She lay there for a while, not talking - but in a different way than she had before. It was obvious to Louie, though maybe not to others, that his friend was trying to find the right words to say to him.
"Do you ever feel afraid that you have a vastly overinflated ego?" She finally asked.
Louie let out a chuckle. "Anytime I do, I just take a glance at the rest of my family, and realize that I'm probably shockingly sane." He joked. He was silent for a moment, looking up at the ceiling.
"...Yeah, I do. Not sure if it's even a fear or a question at this point, honestly."
"You always sound confident when you say things you know aren't true." Violet pointed out. "But that's just an act. You know what you're promising doesn't exist, can't be done, or will never be fulfilled."
"It's very easy to sound confident then." Louie said. "Because that's just lying, you know? There's no meaning to those words, not really. They only exist to make the other person do what I want, so the only thing I have to do for those words is just- sound like I know what I'm talking about. Which is really easy- just say nothing while speaking confidently, and always end it with a smile. Easy."
"Have you ever told a lie that you wanted to be true, so much so that you started to believe it?"
"A few times." Louie admitted. "I once lied about making an ice cream day happen just so I could become school president -which was solely to stick it in Huey's face, mind you- and then actually wanted it. Really difficult to make happen, by the way- apparently school presidents really hold no power. At least that's what the teachers thought. They thought differently after we up and organized a union."
Violet didn’t show so much as a twitch of amusement or intrigue at his brief insight into his life before the manner. The nerve. "As much as I have committed myself to the pursuit of the truth, I have always had a persistent fear of lying to myself. You can probably guess the source of that fear - gender."
"Ahhh, yeah, that's a pretty big one." Louie nodded in agreement. "The whole 'am I really a boy-slash-girl or did I just say it once in protest as a kid and then kept the joke running forever?' Thing."
"I suppose that it's a bit easier to ignore that feeling when everything goes as you expect, but when things don't go as planned... that question becomes much more present." She pressed her hands to her face one more time. "There really shouldn't be any connection between the two, of course. I know that. A is a, b is b, they're completely unrelated."
“Well that’s not true.” Louie replied, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pocket. “They’re both letters. Can’t be completely unrelated, since they both belong to that one big thing.” He looked over at her. “Of course, not taking a shower could help with the whole-“ He gestured to her. “Feeling like shit about your gender and whatnot.”
"It would probably be a good idea to do that. And read the messages on my phone. And to go out into the sunlight. And to stop trying to imprint my memories on a tulpa so I can do twice as much school work. And also jog."
“Now that second to last bit sounds like a good idea, honestly.” Louie pointed out, sitting up and stretching. “And hey, I’ll tell you a secret- sometimes you can lie about something to the point that it becomes true.”
"Hmm. That sounds like magic to me."
“Maybe.” Louie admitted with a shrug. “All I know is that I lied to myself all the time as a kid, said that my mom was still alive and loved me. And, well…” He gestured outwards vaguely. “Apparently that one came true.”
Violet hummed. "An interesting point. Papi would probably say to never underestimate the power of positive thinking. Which is trite but actually true."
"Uncle Donald would say to never underestimate the power of Mom's stubbornness, which I think is pretty much the same thing." Louie said. “Now go shower. I’ll be waiting here when you get back.”
“Unless you want to become a freakish mutant blob or gain a superhero origin story, I’d suggest you do not touch anything.” His friend said as she stood, stretching slightly. “...In fact, go wait out front. I don’t trust you not to fall asleep on something important.”
“Why does everyone always- I’m not that lazy.”
“The only reason you’re sticking around and not heading back home immediately is because you’re hoping that Papi and Papa will make you food if you stay until dinner. And that they’ll give you a ride back.” She didn’t even phrase it like a question. Was he really getting that predictable?
“Yeah, yeah. You’re insufferable.” He responded, sticking his tongue out at her.
Violet mimicked his movements. “And you, Louie Duck, are a bitch.”