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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. Everything.

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.