fic: Interpretation
Dec. 30th, 2007 08:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rubberbuttonTitle: Interpretation
Words: 800
Rating: PG
Summary: I offered to write![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
purridot a little something, more-or-less for Christmas. She requested "Fraser and RayK watch Hard Core Logo." I was only too happy to oblige. Merry Belated Christmas, kiddo!
Warning: spoilers for the ending of Hard Core Logo
“Fraser.” Ray’s long legs stretched out in front of him, propped on the coffee table. The remains of dinner—a pizza box, empty beer bottle and glass of milk, stray popcorn—cluttered the room.
“Yes, Ray?” Fraser had removed his jacket, which kind of made him look like a doofus—it was hard to take a guy in suspenders seriously.
“These guys—they’re from Vancouver.” Ray sifted through the popcorn kernels idly, occasionally flicking one at Dief, who whined his annoyance.
“I believe so, yes.”
“And Vancouver’s in Canada.”
“Correct,” Fraser granted in a tone of infinite patience. “Your geography’s improved.”
“Hey,” Ray snapped, but let it slide without further comment. “So they’re Canadian, right?”
“That would stand to reason,” Fraser said slowly, trying to figure out where Ray was going.
“But they’re not...polite. They’re the opposite of polite. They’re un-polite.” Ray attempted to process this, looking deeply unsettled.
“Impolite, I think you mean, Ray. And though my country has indeed gained a reputation for a certain, ah, solicitous courtesy, it is hardly a rule. In fact, I think you’d find that Canadians run much the same spectrum of personalities and attitudes as Americans, or, indeed, any group of people.” Fraser collected discarded paper napkins and stacked their plates.
“Nuh uh, not like this, they don’t. That Joe guy could have come straight from Chicago. I knew guys like him, back in the day.”
“Don’t tell me you were a part of the punk rock movement,” Fraser said sounding more curious than disapproving.
“Me, a punk? Nah,” Ray grinned. “Dyed my hair and played Black Flag real loud to drive my mom nuts, but that’s about it. I was never a real punk, not like Joe.” Ray’s tone held respect, almost admiration.
“Well, I suppose I’ll grant that he has a certain charisma, but it’s a shame that Joe didn’t ultimately chose to try and straighten his life out, seek counseling for his substance abuse.”
“No, no, no,” Ray interrupted. “You’re missing the point, Fraser. Joe in rehab? That’s stupid. That’s stupider than stupid. His reason was gone—“
“His what?”
“His reason, Fraser. For buttering his toast, for playing his guitar, for bothering to get up in the morning, for...” Ray searched for an example strong enough, “for breathing. He’d lost that.”
“I see,” Fraser said, though he still looked dubious.
“And without a reason, what’s the point? Better to just cut your losses and clock out early,” Ray finished as though it were the obvious conclusion.
“But an individual doesn’t have just one motivating force driving them through their day. Such dependency would be unwise.”
Ray gave a little one-shoulder shrug. “Sometimes, Fraser, you don’t got a choice. It’s just the way that it is. I can’t believe you don’t see it. I thought you were supposed to be good at literary interpretation-type stuff.” He settled back into the couch cushions, arms crossed defensively.
“I hardly think this counts as literature,” Fraser countered.
“The principle’s the same.” Ray’s eyes fixed on the TV screen, just now scrolling the last of the credits. “Here Joe is the epito...the epit—the greatest of punk rockers, his whole world meaningless since Billy—the one person who got him, who knew him—just up and left...and you think Joe should just clean up his act? Even if he quits the drugs, gets a nine-to-five and becomes an upstanding member of the community—every day’s gonna suck, is going to be a reminder that even when he was a pathetic junkie sleeping in crappy vans and band houses, he was better off because then he had a point. And maybe he wasn’t exactly happy, but that wasn’t the important thing. He can spend the rest of his life frolicking through fields of daisies, but it’d be nothing but killing time until his heart stopped beating. What moron’s going to stick around for that?” Ray shook his head in pity for Fraser’s cluelessness. “You just don’t get it.”
“I guess I don’t,” Fraser sighed. “I’m sorry, Ray.”
“You should be,” Ray snapped automatically.
Fraser was silent for a long moment. “You know,” he said musingly, as though he were merely stating a neutral observation, “I’m not going anywhere.”
“So what if you were?” Ray managed to sink further into the couch. “I don’t care.”
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t expect you to.”
Ray’s scowl softened but the intensity remained as he kept his gaze steadfastly on the TV. “It’s not like I’d off myself,” he muttered finally, barely above a whisper.
“No,” Fraser agreed. “And I wouldn’t leave.”
Words: 800
Rating: PG
Summary: I offered to write
purridot a little something, more-or-less for Christmas. She requested "Fraser and RayK watch Hard Core Logo." I was only too happy to oblige. Merry Belated Christmas, kiddo! Warning: spoilers for the ending of Hard Core Logo
“Fraser.” Ray’s long legs stretched out in front of him, propped on the coffee table. The remains of dinner—a pizza box, empty beer bottle and glass of milk, stray popcorn—cluttered the room.
“Yes, Ray?” Fraser had removed his jacket, which kind of made him look like a doofus—it was hard to take a guy in suspenders seriously.
“These guys—they’re from Vancouver.” Ray sifted through the popcorn kernels idly, occasionally flicking one at Dief, who whined his annoyance.
“I believe so, yes.”
“And Vancouver’s in Canada.”
“Correct,” Fraser granted in a tone of infinite patience. “Your geography’s improved.”
“Hey,” Ray snapped, but let it slide without further comment. “So they’re Canadian, right?”
“That would stand to reason,” Fraser said slowly, trying to figure out where Ray was going.
“But they’re not...polite. They’re the opposite of polite. They’re un-polite.” Ray attempted to process this, looking deeply unsettled.
“Impolite, I think you mean, Ray. And though my country has indeed gained a reputation for a certain, ah, solicitous courtesy, it is hardly a rule. In fact, I think you’d find that Canadians run much the same spectrum of personalities and attitudes as Americans, or, indeed, any group of people.” Fraser collected discarded paper napkins and stacked their plates.
“Nuh uh, not like this, they don’t. That Joe guy could have come straight from Chicago. I knew guys like him, back in the day.”
“Don’t tell me you were a part of the punk rock movement,” Fraser said sounding more curious than disapproving.
“Me, a punk? Nah,” Ray grinned. “Dyed my hair and played Black Flag real loud to drive my mom nuts, but that’s about it. I was never a real punk, not like Joe.” Ray’s tone held respect, almost admiration.
“Well, I suppose I’ll grant that he has a certain charisma, but it’s a shame that Joe didn’t ultimately chose to try and straighten his life out, seek counseling for his substance abuse.”
“No, no, no,” Ray interrupted. “You’re missing the point, Fraser. Joe in rehab? That’s stupid. That’s stupider than stupid. His reason was gone—“
“His what?”
“His reason, Fraser. For buttering his toast, for playing his guitar, for bothering to get up in the morning, for...” Ray searched for an example strong enough, “for breathing. He’d lost that.”
“I see,” Fraser said, though he still looked dubious.
“And without a reason, what’s the point? Better to just cut your losses and clock out early,” Ray finished as though it were the obvious conclusion.
“But an individual doesn’t have just one motivating force driving them through their day. Such dependency would be unwise.”
Ray gave a little one-shoulder shrug. “Sometimes, Fraser, you don’t got a choice. It’s just the way that it is. I can’t believe you don’t see it. I thought you were supposed to be good at literary interpretation-type stuff.” He settled back into the couch cushions, arms crossed defensively.
“I hardly think this counts as literature,” Fraser countered.
“The principle’s the same.” Ray’s eyes fixed on the TV screen, just now scrolling the last of the credits. “Here Joe is the epito...the epit—the greatest of punk rockers, his whole world meaningless since Billy—the one person who got him, who knew him—just up and left...and you think Joe should just clean up his act? Even if he quits the drugs, gets a nine-to-five and becomes an upstanding member of the community—every day’s gonna suck, is going to be a reminder that even when he was a pathetic junkie sleeping in crappy vans and band houses, he was better off because then he had a point. And maybe he wasn’t exactly happy, but that wasn’t the important thing. He can spend the rest of his life frolicking through fields of daisies, but it’d be nothing but killing time until his heart stopped beating. What moron’s going to stick around for that?” Ray shook his head in pity for Fraser’s cluelessness. “You just don’t get it.”
“I guess I don’t,” Fraser sighed. “I’m sorry, Ray.”
“You should be,” Ray snapped automatically.
Fraser was silent for a long moment. “You know,” he said musingly, as though he were merely stating a neutral observation, “I’m not going anywhere.”
“So what if you were?” Ray managed to sink further into the couch. “I don’t care.”
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t expect you to.”
Ray’s scowl softened but the intensity remained as he kept his gaze steadfastly on the TV. “It’s not like I’d off myself,” he muttered finally, barely above a whisper.
“No,” Fraser agreed. “And I wouldn’t leave.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-30 04:01 pm (UTC)I loved the fact that it upsets Ray to contemplate rude Canadians. Ray attempted to process this, looking deeply unsettled. Actually, come to thing of it, that disturbs me as well...
Short and sweet. And the unspoken understanding between them. Nice.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-30 05:46 pm (UTC)LOL. Hey, if Hard Core Logo doesn't bring the Christmas spirit, I don't know what does. :P
And the unspoken understanding between them. Nice.
Hey, it's all about the communicating. *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-30 04:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2007-12-30 05:19 pm (UTC)Great fic. I can totally see it.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-30 05:50 pm (UTC)Heh. Exactly.
Great fic.
Thank you kindly. (I may not be Canadian, but I can occasionally manage politeness. *g*)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-30 06:17 pm (UTC)However, what I didn't like is that you set the formatting to use a particular (small and nonserif) font, and it overrides my format=light setting and any font sizing I try to do with my browser. I have very poor eyesight and always make my fonts bigger, but your explicit setting here defeats that and made it really hard for me to read. Could you please, in the future, post stories without forcing the formatting to a particular font? I'll be way more likely to read!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-30 06:45 pm (UTC)Could you please, in the future, post stories without forcing the formatting to a particular font?
I'll try. I honestly had no idea that I was forcing the formatting and therefore am baffled as to how not do it. I'm possibly the least technical person on the planet; it's really kind of pathetic.
I'll be way more likely to read!
Trust me, you're not missing out if you don't. *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-30 06:51 pm (UTC)I would suggest to not pick any font at all - then it defaults to whatever users have set in their browser, or lj default. I can show you a screenshot if it would help, so you can understand why your posts look different from everyone else's.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-30 07:12 pm (UTC)I copy and paste from a Word doc.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-30 07:31 pm (UTC)I liked this a lot - Ray contemplating how maybe "Canadian" doesn't mean what he's come to think it means, and that *he* is the one with real insight into Joe. It's a kind of logic that Ray utterly understands, and then you dovetail it perfectly with his retreat back into himself when Fraser hops on the clue bus and tries to reassure him.
The whole thing is very understated, and you nailed it exactly with this exchange:
“But an individual doesn’t have just one motivating force driving them through their day. Such dependency would be unwise.”
Ray gave a little one-shoulder shrug. “Sometimes, Fraser, you don’t got a choice. It’s just the way that it is.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-30 08:16 pm (UTC)Oh, you should definitely watch it. I hate the goat part too, but I have a system: I watch the acid trip scene until right after the knife-licking bit (which is just scorchingly hot) and then skip to the next chapter on the dvd. You will safely avoid the squick and won't miss anything important (or hot). Seriously though, this movie should be required viewing. Have I convinced you yet? *g*
Ray contemplating how maybe "Canadian" doesn't mean what he's come to think it means, and that *he* is the one with real insight into Joe.
For reasons I can't quite articulate, I think there's a real similarity between Joe and Ray. They've both got aggressive, impulsive exteriors, but behind that is a vulnerability and desperation. ...Of course, if you haven't seen the movie, this means nothing to you. :P
Thanks so much for the feedback, muchly appreciated. :)
(no subject)
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Date: 2007-12-31 02:03 am (UTC)owie do you pack a punch! it's like finding a sharp blade in the middle of a... something.. wow. but Frase saves the day once again! :D
thank you for sharing this! ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-31 03:59 am (UTC)Are you comparing me to the psychos who sabotage Halloween candy? Heh.
but Frase saves the day once again! :D
Doesn't he always? Glad you liked. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-31 02:08 am (UTC)(FWIW, I'm with Isis on the formatting issue. No big deal, though.)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-31 04:02 am (UTC)I'm with Isis on the formatting issue.
I'm trying, I'm trying! ...I'm just meeting with limited success. Or no success. It's very frustrating!
(no subject)
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Date: 2007-12-31 07:03 am (UTC)RB = <3
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-31 07:48 pm (UTC)Oh, yes, I totally agree. I think that's why he complements Fraser--who feels deeply, I think, but is far more analytically (can one feel analytically?)--so well. Fraser can tell you the devices used within the narrative to further the thematic development, and Ray responds emotionally to whatever those themes are. Oh, boys, how I love you. *g*
I'm glad you like it, kiddo! It was a whole lot of fun to write--you make an excellent muse. :)
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