lost in the mix

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

It's been way too long since Fandom's had some therapy and after some of the goings on, I think we fucking need it. So, Fandom denizens far and wide, what the fuck is going on? How the fuck are you? What the fuck is keeping you busy? How the fucking are you feeling?

Catch up with each other, talk it out, wonder what the fuck you got yourself into (oh new students, you'll get used to shit, we promise) and look ahead to the future! It's therapy. Sit down on the couch and let it all out, Fandom.

Comments

[wwiii]

I think I'm coming to terms with the fact that about half the population of the island seems to already know me, either because they knew some other me, or because there was a course here once that had a lecture about me.

... Seriously.

Actually, I'm kind of flattered.

I'm still more or less covering my wings with my coat, but I'm not really freaking out about hiding them, either. I just feel kind of silly, having a set of wings and then having to explain to people that I've been in the air with them maybe three times in my entire life.

And there are a lot of pretty girls around here. I can forgive the inclement weather because of this fact.

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I think you got the short end of the wing stick. You can't even tell I've got a fucking pair. Pretty goddamn handy, if I don't say so. They know you because of the wings or because you're famous?

Wings gotta be an attractive thing to girls, right? At least get their attention.

[wwiii]

Neither. Most of them knew some other me. Jean has actually met two other versions of me before she met me. The logistics of the whole thing kind of make my brain ache. But at least I came here with a sort of ready-made, prepackaged group of friends or something like them. I think?

The wings have definitely gotten their attention. Give me time and a few more flights where I don't end up tumbling rear-over-primaries, and I might drop the coat altogether. Nobody has really freaked out, so far. I like that.

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

Ah, the weird fucking timelines strike again. I've been here awhile already and I'm still not used to that shit. Too strange even for me. But it's good to know people. Makes it easier to get used to this fucked up of a place.

Once you get the hand of the wings, you'll be a lot better too. Being able to get the fuck away from the island is a good thing. Most of the girls haven't been too impressed with mine but I've used mine more to frighten than anything else in the past.

[wwiii]

Well, that's the thing. They all know me, but I've never met any of them before. But at least they're nice? It's a little unsettling, though, when a total stranger can tell you things about yourself that nobody knows.

And yeah, a decent wingspan can be pretty effective at frightening people, too, I've learned. Or just good for throwing them off of you when you need some personal space.

... So. You can fly? I mean. You can fly. Obviously. You're certainly talking about wings like somebody who can fly.

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

I'm an angel. Like an actually angel from heaven. Worked for God, got fired pretty much and now I just have the wings and some useful powers. I can hide my wings though. You ever need some help with the flying, I might be able to provide.

[wwiii]

I might have to take you up on that.

... My last attempt had me looking kind of like a really large chicken.

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

It takes practice, I'll admit. I can't even fucking remember when I learned but it's ingrained now. Doesn't take long. The wings know what to do once you get in the air.

[wwiii]

Yeah, I've noticed that much. I haven't fallen to my death or anything. It's the actual getting into the air part that's got me stumped. I do well enough with running leaps, I think. Mostly out of windows and off of the tops of tall buildings.

My landings need work, too.

[flipped-god-off.livejournal.com]

You could always pad your clothes with pillows when you're flying. That might help!

[wwiii]

Oh, come on. If I'm going to plummet to my untimely demise, there is no way I'm going to do so with pillows strapped to my butt. I need to go with some dignity, here!