The Littlest Hentai: A Cautionary Tale
by Gabriel and Ariel, 7/30/01
Aka, an attempt by two dorks to write something intelligent,
aka an explanation of another ongoing running joke for us, aka Why
People Love/Hate/Refuse to Sleep Near/ Ariel
A long time ago, Summer Court was bored or maybe they were just
really tired but hey, anyway, they came up with this kid named Ariel
somehow. He was originally supposed to be kind and gentle, pretty
much an apprentice to all of Kyth the Uber-Hierophant's wierd tricks
and hang out with him and Stella.
That was the working principle, at least.
But there's a lot of room to grow in a person. Give them time and
space up front and like a goldfish or maybe a turtle, they'll grow
to fit their surroundings. No one kept an eye on Ariel and so he
sort of picked up wierd traits left and right like spandex going
out of style.
Instead of a meek and polished young man, the kid ended up with
a huge amount of insane cheerfulness and an utter lack of getting
upset or disgusted with anything. Anything at all. He stayed blond
but turned positively giddy. At this point in time, Ariel's almost
a whirlwind of other characteristics that randomly filtered to the
surface--Mick's eternal laughter, Minna's lack of shame. He also
infuses just about everything he does with a sort of playful flirting
that can border on the hentai level from zero to sixty in ten seconds.
Technically, Ariel's bi, but since Reb jealously guards any available
females for her own, he sort of defaulted to being the absolute
worst vision of the perky little pretty-boi. He does La Vida
Loca. He's also one of the few males in here who is at all fine
with being in a female body.
We're not sure where the constant twists on perverse jokes comes
from, but people guess that it's because no one else was addressing
it or because it bothered others. Because that's what we've seen
as a universal law for us. If something is forgotten or pushed down,
it'll come up deliberately manifest in another form. It's like,
with multiples, the more you push down in one spot the faster it
pops up in another. (A! Bad thought! Cut it out!)
Ariel doesn't shy away from erotic matters, but he doesn't take
anything seriously either. He brushes off what he doesn't understand,
doesn't care if he uses teen or retro grammer or none at all. He
drops bad memories like dirty shoes, and picks up dirty shoes like
a curious two-year-old. People don't check out what he's looking
at too closely just in case they'll get latched on and giggled at
by someone wanting to shed off a load of wicked connotations and
images just because "it's fun." Everything becomes a joke.
A gets to people because of his lack of caring about anything serious
and because he doesn't try to understand things but takes 'em as
they come. In a lot of ways, he's exactly what a heck of a lot of
people in here would like to be but it's just too tempting. Hey,
even I wanna give in now and then and be just as irresponsible and
to not try to riddle stuff out and not to worry sometimes about
other people, which A never does. And y'know? There's no reason
not to be for a lot of these things, except that I'd get yelled
at by the rest've us. A's our resident hentai, our airhead blond,
can't keep a thought in his head, our pretty-boy who hangs out because...
hey. Someone has to be.
Moral to this story: If you close something away, it'll
just come back the stronger. And then you get wierd punk-boys dancing
around singing 'Hey Sharona' and forgetting that we're all supposed
to behave in public. Or something. It's better to address the stuff
and get it where you can get an eye on it than to pretend it ain't
there, unless you like catching yourself prancing around in tights.