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doubledyke · 5 months

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dissociatED ch. 3

edd makes a confession

The contents of an overflowing black grocery bag poured into a pile on Ed’s paint speckled project table. Eddy gave the bag a final shake for good measure before tossing it and a lengthy receipt to the floor. The biggest perk of hanging out at Ed’s after school was that they never had to worry about cleaning up before they left- though that never stopped Edd from doing a cursory trash collection at the end of the night.

“Bon appétit, boys.” The shortest teen pronounced flatly after having first dibs at the avalanching mountain of snacks. He then flopped onto what was left of Ed’s mattress and dug a Game Boy Advance from one of his generous pockets. With a handful of sour gummies crammed into his gob, he listened for the usual jingle as the device powered on.

The lump was next in line to make his selections and went straight to work, stacking bag after crinkling bag of 2 for $1 treats in the crook of his arm. Once satisfied with his haul, he spun around daintily on his big toe, but was halted mid-pirouette by the waifish boy waiting patiently behind him. Edd toppled to the floor with a surprised yelp and flinched as packages slipped from Ed's clutches onto his face.

"Sorry, Double Dee." In one fell swoop, he was returned to his standing position by the herculean strength of Ed's free arm.

“That's quite alright, Ed- ED! What in heaven's name are those?!” he exclaimed, spotting the contraband just as it was unsubtly tucked behind Ed’s back. Lips pursed and arms crossed, he flashed The Look.

“Really, Ed. Butterscotch disks?” His skinny neck snapped toward the bed to address the one who'd surely been the mastermind. With a voice as artificially sweet as the various treats that littered the floor, he resumed his questioning. “Eddy? Why, pray tell, would you make the purchase of goods containing butterscotch knowing Ed’s allergy to the confectionery?”

After he paused his game, Eddy’s unamused glare traveled slowly from his accuser to his accomplice, then back.

“It was I, Double Dee.” Ed’s noodle head hung shamefully, a jutting bottom lip garnering little sympathy from the room. “The siren of scorched butter beckons me with her syrupy serenade!” A fake sob punctuated his surprising use of syllables.

“Ed, I only ask that if you’re planning on ingesting potentially injurious indulgences to at least provide some notice! You’re lucky mister, that I, for one, have learned from your history of impulsivity, and keep a topical antihistamine in my bag for times like these. However, there may come a day when I won’t be around to-”

The diatribe was thankfully cut off by the timely roar of a muffler-less Buick Estate approaching the house. Eddy glanced up at Edd who in turn looked at the remaining member of their trio. Ed stared a thousand yards ahead while he tore open a pouch of Pop Rocks and emptied it into his mouth. The teens waited in silence as the wagon steadied to a rumble in the driveway before sputtering out when the engine was cut. A car door was heard creaking open and slamming shut, followed by footsteps that squeaked across the floorboards overhead.

“Welp, dad’s home. May I be excused, Double Dee?” Carbonated sugar crystals exploded off his tongue as he spoke. Edd took a step back and raised a finger, but before he could offer his pardon, the perpetually sticky boy was clambering up the stairs to attend his nightly roundtable reprimand. Ed remained outwardly unaffected for being the person his family used as an emotional punching bag. It was nothing new, and as disturbing as it was to his friends, they’d learned not to harp on it. Still, Edd's chest tightened with guilt for eating into a rare moment of peace with a well-meaning but unnecessary scolding. He managed to stave off a further spiral by vowing to apologize later.

Before retreating to his usual spot on the old blue chair, he sorted through the mess of snacks on the table. To his pleasant surprise, Eddy had taken the time to locate his special request: unsalted dry roasted edamame. A giddy peek at the bed found two eyes peering back at him over the handheld console until they darted back to the tiny pixelated world on the screen.

“Thank you, Eddy.” He flashed a weak smile and sat cautiously on the decrepit recliner, wondering if this would be the night it finally collapsed. With his weight fully settled, he breathed a weary sigh of relief then sluggishly rummaged around his satchel for a source of cerebral stimulation. On quite the rebellious streak as of late, his eyes shifted scandalously as he thumbed past his homework folder and opted for a decidedly more recreational selection. He settled as comfortably as he could to begin yet another read through of Finnegans Wake.

By page five he realized he’d just been staring at the blocks of text without processing their deeply ensconced meaning. The exposed plywood digging into the small of his back was only partly to blame for his distraction. Being alone with Eddy these days was rare and resulted in an unavoidable onslaught of complex thoughts and emotions.

Three years feels like an eternity when you’re a kid. But the collective trauma caused by the events of the summer before 8th grade remained evergreen in Edd’s restive brain. Much like everyone else in the neighborhood, he’d been shell-shocked by the revelation of Eddy’s abuse at the hands of the man he misguidedly idolized. The image of his friend, unguarded and gored took months to shake. It was made all the more difficult by his own incessant replaying of the tender moment the two shared immediately after the carnage.

He wondered what Eddy felt when reflecting on the overt display of affection. Did he look back on that moment with the same warmth? Did he look back on it at all?

An eerie quiet loomed over Rethink Avenue after the incident. Since his painfully public humiliation, Eddy left his days of bunco artistry behind and seemed to be exploring his newfound individuality- or so Edd hoped.

Despite their initial outpouring of empathy, the kids struggled to maintain a tolerance for Eddy once it was clear that his riley temperament wasn’t as easily dropped. Ed and Edd didn’t mind of course; they loved Eddy for the firebrand that he always was. The trio was closer than ever, and weren’t particularly bothered by their largely unchanged status as outcasts. Some things had changed, however. It wasn’t long before Edd noticed a disparity in how he viewed his two closest friends. He and Ed were still akin to brothers, offering comfort and protection from their less than ideal home lives.

But "brother" no longer seemed an appropriate label for Eddy; thinking back, he wasn’t positive it had ever been. Eddy often teased that they were “partners in crime”, prompting Edd to roll his eyes in tepid disapproval. Now, with the so-called crime behind them, did that mean they were just... partners?

At first, this shift in perception was easy enough to shrug off as another fleeting infatuation- after all, he still had a bit of a thing for Nazz. But the passage of time did nothing to sway this new sentiment. By now he’d long given up trying to deny the dangerous appeal of Eddy’s casual insubordination, the bizarre charm in his audacity, his inexplicably endearing immaturity. Not to mention how fetched Edd was by his patchy goatee and trendy hoop earring.

Suddenly everything Eddy said or did was under scrutiny for some implicit meaning. Every indiscreet invasion of personal space and cheeky comment was taken as a hint that he might just feel the same about Edd.

Then again, Eddy wasn’t shy by any means, so if he did have similar feelings, surely he would have mentioned it by now… right? Given the boy’s turbulent upbringing, it was reasonable to assume that he was simply too afraid or embarrassed to broach the subject. Plus, the mildest affectionate gesture made his skin crawl- a fact that Edd was painfully aware of.

The concept was completely foreign to him, as years of touch starvation were starting to take its toll. So much so, that he’d recently found himself looking forward to the occasional odiferous bear hug from Ed. Nonetheless, he respected Eddy’s boundaries, ever-changing as they were.

The mixed signals were a tad frustrating, though. One moment he’s utterly unapproachable, the next he’s practically on top of you. Edd could no longer control the way his lip quivered during those moments. The way he'd turn beet red and still be utterly incapable of looking away.

“Take a picture why dontcha? Weirdo.” The croaky voice snapped Edd’s mind back to the crumbling purple walls of the basement where he’d been gawking at Eddy for the entirety of his impromptu reflection. He emitted a few indignant scoffs and squeaks while scanning the immediate area for something else to look at.

“Oh no, I-I wasn’t…W-Well I was just…”

“Relax, Sockhead, I’m just joshin’ ya .” His brow curled in genuine concern at the mortified expression on Edd’s pallid face.

“Oh, of course, a joke. Hehe. Funny.” His eyes grew large just as he shot abruptly from his seat and snatched up the discarded grocery bag from the cement floor. Spread out flat, it was just wide enough to provide a barrier between the rancid mattress and his pristine pants. With a painfully tight grip on his bony knees, he twisted rigidly to face the portly object of his affection. The unexpected proximity had Eddy slowly shrinking into the corner.

“I need to get something off my chest, Eddy, to clear the air, so to speak.”

Eddy perked up slightly. “Seriously, it was just a joke. I don’t think you’re that weird.”

“Never mind that.” Though impertinent, the clarification was some relief to Edd. He continued, “After considerable time spent deliberating, I’ve come to accept that though my selfish unburdening may well bring about unintended consequences, I simply can’t go on ruminating and rehashing hypotheticals. For my own sanity, it’s best I know exactly where I stand- where we stand. You have my word that no matter your reaction to what I have to say, I won’t be upset. I only ask that you take into consideration my sensibilities when forming your sincere response.”

“For chrissake Edd, just spit it out already! You’re makin’ me nervous.” The Game Boy was shut off and tossed aside so he could wipe his sweaty palms on the thighs of his jeans.

“Eddy, I-”

On cue, pounding footsteps barreled down the groaning stairs. Their newly liberated friend burst into the room sporting his trademark slaphappy grin. Eddy’s indignant glare lingered on a jolted Edd, whose attention was drawn elsewhere.

“I am back, you guys! Pass the ointment, Double Dee!” Resilient as always, Ed stomped over to the buffet of junk in search of something salty to accompany his disks of discomfort.

Eddy stood up on the bed briefly before hopping to the floor and yanking the lofty teen to eye level by a handful of his jacket collar.

“Welcome back, big guy. Hey, listen, I just remembered there’s this gargantuan bug in my bathroom and I need Double Dee here to come see if it's poisonous.”

“Oh, why Eddy, if you simply provided a description of this aberrant arthropod, I’m certain I could-” His innocent offer was snuffed by a clammy hand over his mouth. He fought the immature urge to bite one of the fingers. Like it was his fault that Eddy’s on-the-fly excuse was so easily refuted.

“You're in charge of holdin' down the fort till we get back, got it?”

“Roger Wilco, Eddy!” A ground shaking stomp and stiff salute served to drive his unclear point home.

“At ease, Lump.” He landed a few affectionate wallops on Ed’s bicep, then shot a look at the quasi-entomologist. “Let’s get this over with.”

The old table buckled when Eddy leapt onto the corner to gain access to the window and shimmied through the ever tightening port to the backyard.

“Double Dee?”

Edd stopped on Eddy’s trail to answer, “Yes, Ed?”

“If Eddy’s bug needs a place to stay, there is plenty of room in my humble commode.”

“How… considerate of you, Ed. I’ll inform, um, it of your very generous offer.” He turned to leave but was quickly sidetracked again.

“Oh, Ed!” He looked up with doe eyes and placed a gentle hand on the boy’s sinewy forearm. “I’d like to apologize for chastising you earlier. It’s not my place to dictate the decisions you make regarding your health. Though, it’s probably best to provide you with your own tube of diphenhydramine cream. Just in case.” An affiliative smile spanned his face for the few seconds he waited for a response.

“An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cured meat. And I am quite partial to bologna.”

“Yes, well. I’d best be on my way if I hope to avoid an ear-splitting admonishment of my own.”

The ginger haired giant gaped, eyebrow cocked, as the boy’s spindly arms struggled to lift the weight of his equally scrawny lower half out of the basement. After spending several seconds watching his friend’s kicking legs and pained grunts, he lurched to the window and nudged Edd’s rear with just enough force to send him stumbling into the patchy footpath outside. Once somewhat stabilized on his disproportionately small feet, he hollered his appreciation.

“Thank you, Ed! Back in a jiff!”

Standing coolly at the end of the front yard, Eddy wasted no time pulling out a metal case and matching Zippo from another of his many pockets. His thumb stroked the crudely buffed out initials of the case’s previous owner as he popped it open. He pinched a slightly stale menthol cigarette between his lips and used his left hand to block the breeze, his right to light. That first fiending drag of nicotine always left him woozy. Using a light post to steady himself, he watched through heavy lidded eyes as Edd flounced into view.

The out of shape boy’s dramatic heaving stopped as soon as he whiffed the acrid aroma of tobacco.

“Eddy, I’d prefer you didn’t do that upwind of me.” He swallowed hard and watched the cherry glow red as Eddy inhaled another puff, a characteristically devious grin forming around the carcinogenic tube.

“You’re the one standin’ so damn close! C’mon, I ain't out here for my health.”

With that, the pair started down the sidewalk to Eddy’s home. Their shared lack of spatial awareness resulted in the frequent bumping of shoulders, elbows and hands as they shuffled along in silence. A gust of autumn wind on top of the awkward physical contact prompted Eddy to lip his cigarette and shove his hands in his jacket pockets.

The whimsy of marcescent leaves rustling in the nipping breeze had Edd recalling the many idyllic scenarios wherein he finally makes his long awaited confession. Planning was the one constant throughout all of his fantasies; scheduling a time that was convenient for them both, meeting at an undisclosed- and tastefully atmospheric -location, and reading from a deliberately worded billet-doux.

Instead, the rosy imagery was choked out by another miasma from Eddy’s mouth. He grimaced, watching the discarded cigarette land in a growing pile below the back window. His attention was then quickly drawn back to his prospective flame who, in a heartening display of etiquette, had stepped back and was motioning him through the bedroom’s exterior door as it whirred open with an inviting gush of warm air. It wasn’t the moss covered stone pergola hidden away in the vast secret garden of his daydreams. But the clean, well-decorated interior of the bedroom was an improvement.

Edd lingered by the door, looking on while his wheezing friend slunk off to the bathroom.

“Go on then,” The husky boy was heard a few minutes later, garbling through the foam of toothpaste in his mouth. “I’m listening.”

Edd bit his lip and took a few reluctant steps toward the middle of the room. The sound of medium bristles scrubbing properly aligned teeth echoed off the tile floor of the bathroom. He cleared his throat loudly and adjusted his hat. Feeling a bit dispirited by Eddy’s seeming indifference, he struggled to maintain focus on the task at hand.

You’ve come this far, Eddward. Turning back is no longer an option. Besides, you’ll feel better once you’ve disencumbered yourself. Go forward!

“Hello? Earth to Double Dee?” The voice was now outside the bathroom. Eddy flicked the light off on his way out, slung a retro patterned hand towel used to dab his mouth over his shoulder and zipped to his vanity. There he refreshed his CK One.

The corners of Edd’s mouth tightened. Choosing the right words from the hundreds that bounced around his brain at any given second was more challenging than expected. The wrong one could lead to a critical misunderstanding, which might cause irreparable damage to their already at-risk relationship.

Eddy managed to pry his eyes from his reflection long enough to turn around and face Edd who looked to be fighting a losing internal battle. Nothing new there.

“Forgive me. You’ll understand if I’m a bit nervous.” He faked a chuckle. A second clearing of his throat expelled the first words that came to mind.

“I’m quite fond of you, Eddy.” Dilated pupils darted to the furthest corners of his bugged out eyes. The stocky body in his periphery didn’t move.

A bit lackluster, but a good start. Elaborate.

“To put it more plainly, my indelible admiration for you has taken on a romantic hue… Hours of introspection, countless thought experiments and an economy-size box of facial tissue have all led me to this conclusion.”

His stiff neck ratcheted slightly to the right, followed by the rest of his body as he dared to close much of the space between them.

“I’ve grappled with the possibility that said feelings may be unrequited. And in the event that you do share my sentiment, less than two percent of adolescent affairs last beyond high school...”

Emboldened by adrenaline, he froze where he stood, now only a couple feet away and placed a heavy hand on Eddy’s broadened shoulder.

“That said, I’m truly hoping that for once, the odds are in my favor.”

Edd's gimlet eye and uncharacteristically forceful grip had Eddy weighing his options for an escape; if he was quick, he could slip out from Edd’s grasp and leg it back to Ed’s. No way he'd want to keep talking about this in front of Ed. Or, he could fake the sudden onset of some obscure disease- a surprisingly reliable option.

His eyes narrowed as he debated, fixed on the wisps of thin, dark hair resting against Edd’s cricked neck.

“Eddy?” The voice was so low it prompted Eddy to look around for the source.

“Why’s everyone think I’m gay, Double Dee?” There was a genuine curiosity to his question, though he dreaded every possible answer.

Edd withdrew his hand and used it to anxiously massage his bony chest. His lack of facial expression was typically an indication that he was on the verge of collapse. Eddy tried to be subtle in taking a small step back.

Now, look what you’ve done. Why would you touch him? And with unwashed hands, no less!

Feigning maturity was beyond tiresome. Edd wanted to throw himself on the ground, kicking and screaming until he got his way. He’d half a mind to inform Eddy exactly why everyone was so quick to make judgements regarding his sexuality. Figuring he’d already put enough strain on their friendship for one night, he instead played dumb.

“Um… Far be it from me to dissect the complexities of your identity, Eddy. It seems, based on your reaction, that even my perception was skewed after years of friendship.” The adenoidal quality of his voice returned once his throat was cleared a third time. His hand instinctively pressed against his burning cheek, then tugged at the zipper of his quarter zip sweater.

Eddy’s short rearward steps continued until he collided noisily into his rickety dressing table. After confirming nothing had broken, he contested.

“So a guy bathes regularly and knows how to put together an outfit. That makes him a f-” Noting Edd’s disapproving squint, he quickly found another word. “...Fruit?”

If the context weren’t so gut-wrenching, Edd would have laughed out loud at the boy’s callow reasoning.

Oh, Eddy. My obstinately oblivious abettor.

Behind the beads of perspiration on Eddy’s scrunched forehead a war raged on; a conflict between conscious and unconscious mind. To think, someone whose last name wasn’t Kanker was interested in him. And it was Double Dee of all people- the finicky genius, wise to the many skeletons in Eddy’s overloaded closet. The guy who even seemed to have the dames figured out wanted him. It was doing wonders for his recently shoddy self-worth. And he could’ve easily been carried away on that cloud had it not been for the anchor of doubt, despair, and disgust keeping him firmly on the ground. It was true, he knew Eddy like one of those tomes he read for fun. So if Edd thought he was bent… That meant he’d better keep growing out the goatee.

“Eddy, my personal interests aside, I feel I must reiterate: There is nothing nefarious about same sex attraction. It is entirely amoral, despite hegemonic messaging to the contrary.” He paused, remembering that morality wasn’t exactly topping Eddy’s list of priorities. He tried a different angle.

“Gay and bisexual men aren’t inherently less masculine than their heterosexual counterparts. Sexual orientation has no bearing on how someone may choose to express their gender identity.”

The blank look on Eddy’s face was proof enough that he remained unmoved by the attempted appeal to logic. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tapped his foot impatiently.

“Eddy, are you going to listen to me or your father, who can only be distinguished from archaic man by his ability to cajole elderly widows into the peeling leather interior of dubiously discounted daily drivers?”

The fist-clenching frustration that prompted his outburst dissipated quickly, replaced by pity when he met eyes with the confused young man before him.

Still at a loss, Eddy knew his friend was right. But as far as he was concerned, to admit that was tantamount to coming out.

“I’m sorry, Dee. It’s nothin’ personal, really. I just don’t swing that way."

#back on my bullshit with all this alliteration but its fun what can i say #some day i'll write a fic that doesn't end with a line of angsty dialogue but today ain't that day #as usual i'll probably reread and make changes but i gotta cut her loose for now #oh and in case it wasn't obvious this takes place like 2-ish yrs earlier than the main story #fic

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commsroom · 8 months

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Hello !! Do you have thoughts on Rhea :]

yes, i do!! with the caveat that we have such limited information on lovelace's crew, what we do have is almost entirely filtered through her perspective, and we kinda... know rhea the least. as much as i find eris a fascinating character too, i wish we'd heard more of rhea.

which is kind of the first thing: rhea is the only AI character in wolf 359 who doesn't have a voice. (we don't hear hyperion's voice, which is supposedly not integrated yet, but he's not even really treated like a character in the scene he's in. and that's a whole other thing.) for hera in particular, she feels a physical disconnect from the others, but the fact that wolf 359 is audio only makes her an equal presence from the perspective of the audience. (which carries over to the live show, where the other characters may not be able to see her, but the audience can, etc.) rhea's situation is kind of the opposite, where her words can be seen by the others, but the audience can only hear or infer her words via what the others read out loud or respond to.

rhea clearly cares about her fellow crewmates, and seems to get along with lambert in particular. lovelace's log: "and communications officer lambert is... communications officer lambert. so an enormous stick in the mud. [...] i heard that, rhea. you are expressly forbidden from telling him i said that." - a sentiment it's easy to imagine early minkowski expressing about eiffel and hera, for the opposite reason. in a more direct parallel, rhea reassures lambert that he "does a great job"; in bach to the future, hera tells eiffel he's "actually very good at his job." the difference in context highlights their priorities; eiffel and hera are having a heart to heart about worthiness, while rhea really is talking about lambert's job - work is important to him, and most people around him don't respect or appreciate his work. what we can infer about rhea is that she's... well, the kind of person who would be lambert's friend. straightforward, rule-following, and professional.

(even something like "see, rhea? i told you someone read [my reports to command]" indicates that they talk to each other a fair amount, but also serves as a mirror to eiffel's belief no one listens to his logs.)

maybe the most interesting thing to me about rhea is her defense of eris: "it's just the way they programmed her, back off." ... again, the complete opposite of how hera might respond. eiffel tries to "defend" her in a similar way in ep 7 - "you can't really hold that against her; it's just her programming" - and she finds it incredibly insulting. with all of that taken together, with how lovelace, lambert, and rhea are in many ways intentional opposites to minkowski, eiffel, and hera, it really makes me wonder how rhea identifies or perceives herself.

i think hera is functionally human, both in her singular, consistent image of herself, and in her role in the narrative. eris appears human to lovelace, but is clear that it's how she sees "a version of herself." whether that refers to that iteration of eris having multiple versions of herself, or if it refers to all of the iterations of her who exist: either way it's a reflection of the way eris exists, and her acceptance of that. by extension, the fact that we don't encounter rhea in any way other than beeping sounds and implied words on station monitors... kind of says something narratively, i think. going back to her lack of voice, even that level of distance and abstraction takes her further away from 'human' perceptions by the audience, while she's obviously still a full person with her own priorities, perspectives, and opinions. i think it's very interesting to consider she might prefer her state of (lack of physical) existence in a way hera clearly does not.

#wolf 359 #w359 #asks #sorry this took a bit to reply to!! i know it's not just about rhea but it's hard to discuss her without talking about. other things #and i've been trying not to tag most of my asks #but i like talking about AI characters and don't know when i'll get a chance to talk about rhea again so. i wanna file it #i think it's worth considering the difference between personhood and humanity even if they commonly overlap #and i feel very strongly that it's wrong to call hera 'non-human' with the context of her character within the story #but that's very much not the case for most other AI characters and i think it's interesting she might even be an outlier within wolf 359 #i have more to say about that later but. for another post.#also to be clear. rhea's lack of voice is because she's an earlier model in universe. but it didn't have to be written that way.#the fact she was written that way says something interesting.#if you wanted to extend it to the same disability metaphors that apply to hera you could probably talk about non-verbal communication #but again. there's not much to go off of. it's mostly possibilities.

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