Hanna is not a Psychologist
Apr. 17th, 2010 12:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skysailorI do occasionally post fanfiction on this blog, right? I don't remember. Who cares? Fanfic. Have it. Like it. T'is first-person fic (from ...'s POV) for Hanna is not a Boy's name, an awesome (albeit crazy fast-paced) webcomic that you should go read now.
http://hanna.aftertorque.com/
Go along. I'll be patient. The fic will be waiting for you after you're done.
Hanna clapped his hands and rubbed them together, grinning out at the the three of us as we sat amongst an audience of folding chairs. My two companions stared back at him with baleful trepidation. I had learned by this point that this was the standard result of having dealt with Hanna. And yet, at the same time, both of them were here. Hanna was inexorable once he got an idea in his head. Conrad was still blinking, as if trying to figure out how and when he’d agreed to come.
"Okay! So tonight's the first night of our new and awesome support group."
Veser slunk in his chair, trying to pick something to glare at. "Does it even have a name?" he muttered.
"Well... um..."
There was, in fact, a name. There were several names. Hanna had stayed up nearly all night, listing them, crossing them out, listing them again, and occasionally trying to get me to join in. My suggestions, however, were a little too plain for his taste. He had mostly, but not quite, settled on "The So-Cool Super-Awesome Support Group," but when I'd pointed out that the title didn't say what the support group was for, he'd deflated a little and crossed it out.
Hanna wasn't stalled for long. "It's going to have a name! Eventually. Like Hugo over here. And it will be an awesome name, so there, and we can forget about it because it's time to get started."
It was? Ah. Yes. It was. I could see, just as Hanna had, Doc Worth sneaking in the back, trying not to be noticed. I wasn't sure what Hanna had bribed him with to make him lead the support group - or why Hanna thought it was a good idea in the first place - but it was only an instant before Hanna had leaped over and grabbed the grumpy not-quite-doctor by the arm.
"Come on! Come on! We've been waiting for you. Now you're here." Despite Worth's show at struggling, Hanna dragged him all the way over to the chair placed in front of the room, sitting him down and grinning with his usual mad fervor. Worth glared.
From somewhere in the audience chairs came a very loud "Hmph!" I looked over to see Conrad, arms crossed and determinedly not looking at the front of the room or the so-called doctor sitting there.
"Hey! Frouferatu! Glad you could make it." Worth let himself have a grin while Conrad continued to determinedly not look in his direction. The doc lit a cigarette, taking in a long drag. "Awright, so I'm supposed to counsel you freaks. Or do some support shit, right?" He took in another drag, turning his head to spit out the smoke. He leaned his elbows on his knees, bending forward to look out at all of them. "Fine, here's my supporty counsely bullshit. Yer all dead, 'cept for the ones of you that ain't. Yet. Deal with it." He glared up at Hanna. "Now where's that shit you promised me?"
"Wooooorth. Come on. You can do better than that."
Worth and Hanna exchanged a long match of glares and insistent looks. Finally, Worth turned back to the audience, tapping his cigarette to knock off some of the ash.
"Fine. Who here wants to whine about how crappy their life or unlife is?"
It surprised me to see that someone did actually raise their hand to that: "My best friend had his suicide faked by my asshole dad."' Veser.
"Sucks to be you, kid." That was, I think, the closest I'd ever seen Worth get to sympathy.
But Veser, unsurprisingly, didn't take it that way. "Screw you," the kid snarled, wiping his runny nose on a sleeve.
"Life's a bitch. People die." Worth clenched his teeth around his cigarette. "Ever need to learn that one again, just ask the corpses sittin' around here." He gave a nod to Conrad, then to me, then looked at Hanna and stopped himself just short of tilting his head for a third nod. Stopped, most likely, by the panicked look on Hanna's face and the way Hanna's arms twitched, as if he were about to wave them in front of him but knew it would draw too much attention. Worth grinned, but didn't comment on it. "Lotsa people."
"Look," Conrad interjected. "If we have to talk about something, can we talk about how irritating it is that now some of us have to rely on some people just to--" he cut himself off, blubbered, growled, then finally crossed his arms and resumed staring at anywhere but Worth.
An awkward silence fell, punctuated by a strangled, hacking sound that I eventually realized was Worth laughing at Conrad.
"Um, Gilder, do you have anything you want to talk about?" Hanna tried, addressing me.
"Not particularly."
"Here's an idea," put in Worth, after he'd dissolved his laugh down to a grin at our vampire companion's expense. "Instead of sitting around and bitching about your problems, why don't we all go out and get piss-ass drunk..." Conrad and Veser's glares snapped straight onto Worth. I, too, found myself staring at him, somewhat blankly. There were very few people in the room who could drink, either legally or physically. I hadn't yet tried eating or drinking myself, and wasn't sure if it would have any effect, even if it turned out I could. The room again lapsed into an uncomfortable silence - a real one, this time.
Hanna crouched, deep in thought, tracing along the floor in the shape of the runes he used as magic. He sat there for a while, uncharacteristically quiet, until finally I approached him. The glow of my eyes turned his shirt orange as I looked down at him.
"Hanna?"
He looked up at me, blankly, for a second, then tugged - gently - at my arm. I crouched down next to him, and he whispered in my ear. It seemed... well, not quite reasonable, but it seemed very Hanna. I nodded twice, then rose. I walked over to Worth and rested a hand on his shoulder.
"Tag," I said. "You're it."
http://hanna.aftertorque.com/
Go along. I'll be patient. The fic will be waiting for you after you're done.
Hanna clapped his hands and rubbed them together, grinning out at the the three of us as we sat amongst an audience of folding chairs. My two companions stared back at him with baleful trepidation. I had learned by this point that this was the standard result of having dealt with Hanna. And yet, at the same time, both of them were here. Hanna was inexorable once he got an idea in his head. Conrad was still blinking, as if trying to figure out how and when he’d agreed to come.
"Okay! So tonight's the first night of our new and awesome support group."
Veser slunk in his chair, trying to pick something to glare at. "Does it even have a name?" he muttered.
"Well... um..."
There was, in fact, a name. There were several names. Hanna had stayed up nearly all night, listing them, crossing them out, listing them again, and occasionally trying to get me to join in. My suggestions, however, were a little too plain for his taste. He had mostly, but not quite, settled on "The So-Cool Super-Awesome Support Group," but when I'd pointed out that the title didn't say what the support group was for, he'd deflated a little and crossed it out.
Hanna wasn't stalled for long. "It's going to have a name! Eventually. Like Hugo over here. And it will be an awesome name, so there, and we can forget about it because it's time to get started."
It was? Ah. Yes. It was. I could see, just as Hanna had, Doc Worth sneaking in the back, trying not to be noticed. I wasn't sure what Hanna had bribed him with to make him lead the support group - or why Hanna thought it was a good idea in the first place - but it was only an instant before Hanna had leaped over and grabbed the grumpy not-quite-doctor by the arm.
"Come on! Come on! We've been waiting for you. Now you're here." Despite Worth's show at struggling, Hanna dragged him all the way over to the chair placed in front of the room, sitting him down and grinning with his usual mad fervor. Worth glared.
From somewhere in the audience chairs came a very loud "Hmph!" I looked over to see Conrad, arms crossed and determinedly not looking at the front of the room or the so-called doctor sitting there.
"Hey! Frouferatu! Glad you could make it." Worth let himself have a grin while Conrad continued to determinedly not look in his direction. The doc lit a cigarette, taking in a long drag. "Awright, so I'm supposed to counsel you freaks. Or do some support shit, right?" He took in another drag, turning his head to spit out the smoke. He leaned his elbows on his knees, bending forward to look out at all of them. "Fine, here's my supporty counsely bullshit. Yer all dead, 'cept for the ones of you that ain't. Yet. Deal with it." He glared up at Hanna. "Now where's that shit you promised me?"
"Wooooorth. Come on. You can do better than that."
Worth and Hanna exchanged a long match of glares and insistent looks. Finally, Worth turned back to the audience, tapping his cigarette to knock off some of the ash.
"Fine. Who here wants to whine about how crappy their life or unlife is?"
It surprised me to see that someone did actually raise their hand to that: "My best friend had his suicide faked by my asshole dad."' Veser.
"Sucks to be you, kid." That was, I think, the closest I'd ever seen Worth get to sympathy.
But Veser, unsurprisingly, didn't take it that way. "Screw you," the kid snarled, wiping his runny nose on a sleeve.
"Life's a bitch. People die." Worth clenched his teeth around his cigarette. "Ever need to learn that one again, just ask the corpses sittin' around here." He gave a nod to Conrad, then to me, then looked at Hanna and stopped himself just short of tilting his head for a third nod. Stopped, most likely, by the panicked look on Hanna's face and the way Hanna's arms twitched, as if he were about to wave them in front of him but knew it would draw too much attention. Worth grinned, but didn't comment on it. "Lotsa people."
"Look," Conrad interjected. "If we have to talk about something, can we talk about how irritating it is that now some of us have to rely on some people just to--" he cut himself off, blubbered, growled, then finally crossed his arms and resumed staring at anywhere but Worth.
An awkward silence fell, punctuated by a strangled, hacking sound that I eventually realized was Worth laughing at Conrad.
"Um, Gilder, do you have anything you want to talk about?" Hanna tried, addressing me.
"Not particularly."
"Here's an idea," put in Worth, after he'd dissolved his laugh down to a grin at our vampire companion's expense. "Instead of sitting around and bitching about your problems, why don't we all go out and get piss-ass drunk..." Conrad and Veser's glares snapped straight onto Worth. I, too, found myself staring at him, somewhat blankly. There were very few people in the room who could drink, either legally or physically. I hadn't yet tried eating or drinking myself, and wasn't sure if it would have any effect, even if it turned out I could. The room again lapsed into an uncomfortable silence - a real one, this time.
Hanna crouched, deep in thought, tracing along the floor in the shape of the runes he used as magic. He sat there for a while, uncharacteristically quiet, until finally I approached him. The glow of my eyes turned his shirt orange as I looked down at him.
"Hanna?"
He looked up at me, blankly, for a second, then tugged - gently - at my arm. I crouched down next to him, and he whispered in my ear. It seemed... well, not quite reasonable, but it seemed very Hanna. I nodded twice, then rose. I walked over to Worth and rested a hand on his shoulder.
"Tag," I said. "You're it."
